The Galaxy is the Limit: Fracas
by Kahskhiori
Summary: It's the year 2388, almost one year after the Hobus disaster threw the Romulan Star Empire into turmoil. A manic foe who is seeking to take advantage of the fragile state of affairs in the Beta Quadrant must be stopped.
1. Introduction: Quandary

**The Galaxy is the Limit: Fracas  
**

_These are the adventures of Arhea t'Khaiell, a former Tal'Shiar officer who had infiltrated Starfleet for many years, and Timir Traore, a Starfleet prisoner gone operative for the organization he hated so much in order to gain his permanent freedom._

* * *

Introduction - "Quandary"

=/\= - =/\=

The silence that hung in the room was grinding on, moment by moment, crushing down on her like a weight. She had long trained herself not to be overly anxious when unexpected things happened; it only robbed her of being able to think logically. But she had to admit the events leading up to her standing in this room, scrutinized by the eyes of this man wearing Rear Admiral pips, were making it hard for her to stay calm and collected.

He slowly circled around her backside, intensely analyzing her stance. It was flawless; perfectly erect, hands clasped behind her back, feet slightly apart, chin up and eyes trained on some undefined spot before her. Not one muscle twitched. Not one hint of emotion showed in her facial expression. Military indifference at its best. For a split second a lopsided smirk formed on his face, then instantly disappeared as he rounded her side and stopped face to face with her.

While he stared into her face, she simply stared past him into empty space, never making eye contact. He stepped back and sat on the edge of his massive, wooden desk. His hand went to his chin as if he was thinking intensely about something while he continued observing her.

For the briefest moment her dark green eyes flicked to focus on him, then returned to hold that distant gaze again. She clenched her jaw. His silence was unnerving.

=/\=

"Sir, may I inquire. Why was I ordered to come here? And why was I held in confinement for thirty-six hours?" She could no longer hold back the questions that had been on her mind.

His hand lowered. "It's Admiral Michaev," he noted dryly. "And you've been held on suspicion of treason."

"Treason?" Her brow furrowed. "On what grounds and with who's authority?"

"Mine."

"I don't recognize your authority."

"Perhaps you recognize the authority of Starfleet Intelligence then," he replied with a superior air.

There was the briefest moment of hesitation before she countered, "Starfleet regulations state that an officer suspected of tre..."

"Don't state regulations to me," he cut her off.

"I am simply reminding you that as a Federation citizen and a Starfleet Officer I have certain rights," she continued undeterred.

"Federation citizen, bah," he scoffed.

"I am," her eyes suddenly met his, "a native of Vulc..."

"You are no Vulcan!" He jumped up and lunched forward, coming face to face with her. So close, she should feel his breath against her skin. "I know what you are, T'Ashal," he growled in a low tone. He saw the momentary shock in her eyes and grinned. "Oh yes..."

"I do not know what you mean," she said in a whisper.

He stepped back and sneered, "Oh sure, you look Vulcan and you scan as such, but green blood isn't always green blood." Once more he began to circle her, watching as she fought for control, her dark mocha skin gradually turning ashen. "I've know for years." His words dripped with sinister sarcasm. He clearly enjoyed watching her struggle, seeing the facade of dispassion she so carefully had constructed slowly crumble.

He stopped to her side, leaning in close to her ear. "But don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," he said with the tenderness of a father's voice, "at least as long as I wish it to be." A cynical edge returned to his words, "Or as long as you prove useful to us." He noticed the flash of anger in her eyes. His ensuing grin portrait his perverse pleasure in affecting her this way. "Ironic, isn't it? All these years you thought you were playing us, only to find out... we played you all along..."

=/\=

Her hand shot up at him, obeying an instinctive wish to retaliate. Just as quickly, he countered, grasping her wrist in a grip of steel before her fist could connect to his jaw.

"Be careful who you're lashing out at," he breathed with an icy glare, squeezing her arm harder and harder until she finally opened her fist and her hand went limp. "Good." He smirked triumphantly and released her arm. "Now that we're past that... I have an offer to make."

"No, thank you." She rubbed her wrist.

"It's either that or incarceration."

"I would rather die than continue as your pawn," she replied with defiance.

"Too bad." He walked to his desk, picking up a PADD and glancing at it. "Rumor has it some of your extended family was able to evacuate Romulus in time." He put the PADD down. "But then," turning to her, "what do you care about family, right?"

She lifted her eyes for a moment, still rubbing her wrist. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Such honorable people. A shame they lost almost everything and are doomed to drift about without a home. Their lives in shambles..."

"You are mistaken."

"It seems they've even inquired about your whereabouts."

She stopped rubbing her wrist. "Assuming any of what you are saying is true, how would you even know this?"

"I have my sources," he smiled broadly.

"What does my family have to do with anything?" she muttered.

Realizing she had taken the hook, he only had to set it. "Oh, well... because the offer involves a ship going into Romulan space," he noted nonchalantly. "But since you're not interested..."

She knew the game he was playing only all too well. But just because he was starting to win this battle, didn't mean he was going to win the war. For the moment, she needed to find out what exactly his game was. "I am listening."

=/\=

He picked up another PADD and walked around his desk. A sly grin flashed across his face before he sat down in the large, leather-covered chair. He swiveled around to face her. His eyes briefly scanned the data on the PADD, then he looked at her.

"The Federation Council has commissioned a fleet of ships to be dispatched into Romulan space to provide food and aid to refugees and to help the displaced survivors of the Hobus disaster find new homes. There are some... political issues to handle and I suggested to Starfleet Command to assign you to one of the ships as XO."

"Which ship?"

"The USS Excelsior." He leaned forward. "She just received a new Commanding Officer, Captain Loriarra. However," he laid the PADD down and folded his hands on the desk, "Loriarra had to unexpectedly turn in for an extended leave of absence."

She raised a brow. "What does this have to do with me?"

"We'll need a replacement for her."

"Who would that be?"

"You. If you accept." He eyed her intently.

The surprise was plain on her face. "I... I thought... how can you trust..."

"I don't." He rose. "That's why I will assign an SFI officer to the ship. He will officially serve as Intelligence Liaison." He put his hands on the desk and leaned toward her, giving her a pointed look. "But don't be mistaken, his first order will be to keep an eye on you. I simply need you to be Captain of that ship."

Focus came back to her eyes as she straightened her stance. "What exactly do you require of me?"

"You just carry out my orders as they're passed down by my agent. Which means you better make sure I don't lose contact with him."

He studied her, noticing her jaw tightened briefly before she nodded in response. Satisfied that her expression showed understanding, he grabbed the PADD again. "I am authorized to promote you to Captain and commission you to command the USS Excelsior... if you accept." He looked at her expectantly.

She sighed. He certainly didn't leave her any room to maneuver. She didn't cherish the thought of having an SFI agent on board controlling her every move. On the other hand, she cherished being locked up in a detention facility even less. On top of that, getting into Romulan space was an opportunity she didn't want to pass up. What did she have to lose? In all honesty, nothing.

"I do accept."

"Good. Just make sure you keep in mind what's at stake for you. And don't even think about spilling your secret... to anyone. Is that clear?"

She nodded.

"Captain T'Ashal, here are your orders." He held the PADD out to her, though didn't immediately let go of it when she grabbed it. "And Captain... I mean what I say. If you betray me, there will be no trial."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

A hush fell over the room for the longest time after T'Ashal had departed. Though the air seemed to sizzle with tension and yet at the same time somehow felt crisp and clear, much like after a thunderstorm had passed.

"You know she'll be trouble," the Andorian noted as he stepped into the office from an adjacent room.

"And I'm counting on you to handle that." Admiral Michaev turned his vacant gaze from the office door to focus on the buff, blue-skinned alien. "I think for the moment she has resigned to her lot." He sat and sunk into his chair, letting out a sigh. "I expect that to change once the Excelsior gets into Romulan space."

The Andorian nodded. "I'm sure it will."

Michaev folded his hands across his abdomen. "She can be naive, but she really doesn't have anything to lose right now, and that could be dangerous. We need to make sure she believes she has something to lose," he thought out loud. His eyes flicked over to his companion. "Zlar, you know I'm counting on you. You're knee-deep in this mire, too."

"Our success is as important to me as it is to you, sir," the alien acknowledged.

The Admiral scowled. "It won't be easy. But I'm not going to be outmaneuvered by any green-blooded dog," he snarled in a low tone.

=/\=

Zlar clenched is jaw, a dark expression coming over his face. "Do you think she was aware of my presence?"

"I doubt it. She was too focused on me. Too involved with her emotions at my revelation." Michaev sat up, his eyes roving over the desk. "Remember, she might have remarkable telepathic blocking abilities but not a whole lot more, especially when she's unfocused." Finding what he sought, he picked up one of the PADDs, "It doesn't really matter much if she did or not," and held it out to the Andorian.

Zlar stepped closer and grabbed the PADD, immediately activating it and skimming over the data.

"It's the correct one, isn't it?" Michaev queried when the Andorian said nothing in response to the information.

"Yes, sir, it is."

"Good." The Admiral leaned back into the leathery cushions again. "Those are your official orders for your assignment to the Excelsior. 'We' will communicate the usual way."

"Understood."

"You're dismissed, Commander." Michaev watched expressionless as the alien snapped his heels, did an about face, and marched to the door. "Zlar," he made the agent halt and look back momentarily, "don't let your guard down. I want my prize."


	2. Chapter 1: The Things We Leave Behind

Chapter 1: "The Things We Leave Behind"

=/\= - =/\=

_A turbulent three months-long ride in Romulan space later..._

* * *

"Your farewell address was very well received." Commodore Anthony Greco stepped into one of the VIP quarters aboard his ship, the USS _Paladin_, a prototype Hephaestus class. He wisely forewent mentioning the heart-renting, tear-jerking expressions the _Excelsior_ crew had made about missing their Captain.

Dark green eyes met his gaze; an almost tortured look in them. She put the mirror down on the coffee table.

Tony walked to the couch and sat by her side. "It's better that everyone thinks you're dead," he said with a fatherly tone to his voice, wishing to take the coldness out of that statement. "Not just because of Michaev and his cohorts. But this way neither Starfleet nor the Galae can bring you up on charges of treason and court martial you, or worse..."

"Then why does it feel so wrong?" She hung her head.

"Because you're not an emotionless Vulcan," he put his finger under her chin and gently lifted her head to look at him, "you care about your crew a great deal."

Her eyes were swimming with tears as she looked at him. A few breached the boundary of her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. The heated sensation trailing down her skin reflected the burning within her. He was right. She'd rather stand trial than abscond from her responsibilities like this. When he had told her he'd have her back, she hadn't imagined he would urge her to sneak off like this. Even if it was for her own protection.

She sniffled, "What will happen with the fleet now?"

"They'll be recalled to Federation space. Their mission here is over." He pulled his hand back. "We, on the other hand, still have our biggest battle in front of us. We'll be leaving here shortly."

She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I don't want to sound calloused, but you have four days of travel to work through this, Arhea," he said in a hushed tone, "then I need you focused and at your best. We all need to be, or we might all have our farewells played to someone all too soon."

"I will not disappoint you."

Tony laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You never have."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

After the Commodore had left the room, she picked up the mirror again and stared at her reflection. Her hand tentatively graced over her forehead, fingerstips feeling out every nuance of her newly re-acquired ridges. A long sigh.

She had made sure the Doctor had not made them very pronounced, just visible enough to leave people thinking that she might be a Romulan-Vulcan hybrid. It was what she wanted, because in her mind and heart she felt she truly was a child of both worlds, the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation. Her greatest wish: that the two powers would actually enter into an era of genuine cooperation and friendship some day soon.

=/\=

Her eyes lifted off her reflection at the sound of the door chime. She put the mirror back down on the table. "Computer, open the door."

Seeing who stood in the doorway, her heart skipped a beat. A smile spread on her face. "Timir." Her melancholy mood gone for the moment, blown away as with an autumn breeze. She jumped up and met him halfway between the couch and the entrance.

"T'Ashal." He cracked a smile at seeing her.

"It's Arhea now," she corrected, stopping just short of him. There was a slight quiver in her voice, "Captain T'Ashal died down there on that planet." Her eyes momentarily reflected the pain she felt at that statement.

"Arhea then," he cocked his head a little, a lopsided smirk on his lips, "that's going to take some getting used to." He gingerly took one of her hands into his as he looked her over. "Something's different... New haircut?"

A heated sensation washed over her at his touch, but she didn't pull her hand back. Not this time. "No." She brushed the hair off her forehead. "What do you think?" Her green eyes sparkled a little at him, hoping he liked the alteration.

The twinkle in his amber eyes spoke volumes as he drew her into his arms. His eyes met hers. For a second that familiar desire came over him and he felt the urge to pick up where they had left off in the hot springs on S'aith. It had been almost two weeks since then, but the memory of that passionate kiss was as present with him as if it had happened just moments ago. He quickly pushed the urge aside; this wasn't the right time.

Instead, he placed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I'm thinking of getting a set of my own." He grinned.

She closed her eyes and lingered in the embrace, her head sinking against his chest. For the first time since he had come into her life she didn't have a wall up, keeping him at arm's length. It felt really good to have him so close. His presence took away the edge of the anguish she felt about leaving people she had come to care for so much behind, letting them think she had died.

=/\=

"Did you... attend the memorial?" Her gaze finally lifted, peering up to his face.

He shook his head. "I couldn't. It just... felt wrong." A sigh. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair. A light smile curled his lips. Funny, how he had never held her long enough to do this before.

His hand raised, he stroked her dark tresses softly. The discouragement he had felt at her abrupt exit on S'aith all but forgotten now. It felt good to hold her like this, without having to fight for every inch of her affection. So good, he never wanted to let go.

She let out a languishing sigh. "That's what I told Tony..."

He nodded. He had come to know her well enough to understand how she must be feeling right now. It wasn't her way to beg off from anything unless there was a very important reason. At the same time, he was also glad she wasn't officially involved with Starfleet any more. It allowed a certain freedom and opened up other opportunities he'd much rather pursue. Selfish? Maybe.

"Look at the bright side... Arhea," he tried lightening the mood, "after we're done with Greco's mission, we'll be able to do whatever we want." He smiled at that thought. "The galaxy is the limit..."


	3. Chapter 2: The Right Thing to Do

Chapter 2: "The Right Thing to Do"

=/\= - =/\=

_Some two hours after departing from Abraxas..._

"...ETA to Talvath is about ninety hours. Chief Armello assured me we can keep up warp nine point seven throughout without a problem," Commander T'Luz finished her lenghty report.

"We've been running simulation using the general layout of a Defiant class," Lieutenant Commander Lyle Edmundson, the Chief of the Tactical and Security Department piped in. "Of course, we won't know what exactly we're facing until we get there and figure out if we can even sneak on the _Umbra_."

"I understand," Commodore Anthony Greco nodded, "just make sure your team is ready for any contingency you can think of. We probably won't have much time to flesh out a detailed plan of attack. You'll just have to be able to improvise, Commander."

"If anything, we're good at winging it." Edmundson grinned.

"As I'm well aware," Greco replied with a confident nod.

"I don't see how you will even get the chance to beam aboard Michaev's ship," Timir Traore voiced his doubt. "You think he'll just drop his shields and say 'come on in and take over'?"

"Most likely he'll be cloaked," Edmundson turned his attention to the Starfleet informant, "Cloak's up, shields will be down."

"And you're going to beam your team out into space, hoping to hit the target?" Timir looked at the Chief with an incredulous expression.

"Of course not," Lyle countered.

"_That's_ where you'll come in," Greco interrupted the lively debate.

"Me?" Timir looked confused.

"I'll explain it in a minute." Tony's eyes shifted between his XO and the Chief, "Anything else pressing we need to discuss right now?" When they both shook their heads, Greco dismissed them.

=/\=

Arhea had listened quietly while the discussions had gone on for a good half hour. After T'Luz and Edmundson left the briefing room, she finally broke her silence. "Why do I get the feeling that improvising will be a big part of this mission?"

"Unfortunately," Greco sighed, "we don't have much to go on, until we get to Talvath. And even then, things might be up in the air. This isn't a planned out, precision Intel mission, Arhea. We'll be flying by the seat of our pants."

"That much is clear." She rolled her eyes.

"What about me?" Timir went back to Greco's earlier mention. "You said this is where I come in. Explain."

"I need your unique abilities." Tony met Timir's eyes.

"You mean my psychoprojection," the Halanan guessed.

"That's exactly what I mean," Greco acknowledged. "I need you to be able to project a counterfeit version of Mirok."

"That won't be easy if you want a convincing one," Timir pointed out, "I don't think we have an extensive visual record on him, do we?"

"Wait. What?" Arhea interrupted before the Commodore had a chance to reply. "Why do we need Timir to make a projection? Can't you just have Lieutenant Armello make a visual overlay for the viewscreen to fool Michaev when you talk to him?"

"I'm afraid that won't be enough," Greco noted. "I don't want to take a chance with anything. We need to be ready for_ any _possibility, even if Michaev wants to speak to Mirok in person."

"As I said, that won't be easy," Timir mentioned more incessantly.

"I know." Tony nodded. His eyes shifted to Arhea, looking at her with intent. "You've worked for Mirok for years," he began cautiously, "You've watched him move about. Talk. You know him better than any of us."

"_D'Nal_," Arhea used Mirok's real name, "was my supervisor in the Tal'Shiar. You know that." She narrowed her eyes at the older man. "What are you getting at, Commodore?"

"I think he's saying that you've got the most thorough record of this Mirok... or D'Nal guy we could possibly have access to," Timir tapped the side of his head, "in here."

Her eyes widened. They flicked between the Halanan and the Commodore, then stayed on Tony, boring into him. Was he serious about this? "You want Timir probing into my mind to retrieve information on D'Nal?"

"It's our best chance," Greco said somberly.

"Absolutely not!" Arhea jumped up, slamming her fist down on the table. "What's up here," she pointed to her head, "is private. It's mine. Not yours to do with as you wish." Oh, she was riled up now. "I can't believe you'd even suggest something like that!"

"It's the most complete record we have to work with, Arhea," Greco reasoned, his voice staying calm and even. "Being able to fool Michaev is pivotal to the success of this mission. And I don't think I have to repeat to you how important this mission actually is. The fate of the galaxy is hanging in the balance."

"Don't even..." She pointed a finger at him. Her eyes flashed darkly. "Don't." A growl. She turned away and paced the room.

"I won't access anything but your memory of D'Nal," Timir assured, watching her walk back and forth. He was a little surprised at her defiance. Didn't she trust him?

"That has nothing to do with it!" She whirled around, glaring at the two men. Her eyes shifted between them. Anger mixed with a plea to not subject her to this filled them. "How would you feel if someone was to rummage around in your personal thoughts?"

"If it was for the greater good..." Greco began.

She immediately cut him off. "Don't give me that crap, Tony!"

"I don't want to make it an order," he pressed on.

"Order?" she snapped, "You have _no_ jurisdiction over me, Commodore. I'm not Starfleet any more. Remember?"

He simply looked at her.

"Don't give me that look," she muttered. She hated it when he did that. It was the same look her father used to give her when she was very young. That look that said, 'you know what the right thing to do is.'

Arhea's eyes shifted between the men once again. "Oh come now," she lamented, "isn't there any other way?"

"I'm afraid not," Tony remarked.

Again, her eyes went from Greco to Timir and back. Unable to withstand the imploring expession they both held, she groaned and flopped back down into her seat. A huff, "Fine."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

It was about 1800 hours before Timir even decided to make an attempt to approach Arhea with the task set before him... before _them_. It wasn't like he was about to invade her mind forcefully, this was suppose to be a team effort. She'd supply the data, he would have to create a pattern from which to conjure up the projection of Mirok.

Timir knew that wasn't the man's real name, but for his purposes that's what he would be called because that was the name by which Michaev knew the Romulan. Of course, Michaev had no idea the man was a Tal'Shiar officer; he simply thought of him as a black market arms dealer. And that was how it would have to stay. Fake name, fake identity.

=/\=

Timir came to a halt in front of Arhea's quarters and looked down at the covered tray in his hand. A peace offering. Arhea had left the briefing room in quite an unhappy mood earlier. Not only had he given her several hours to cool off, but he had also replicated one of her favorite foods. Sushi.

A wistful smile curled his lips as he thought back to that day on the _Excelsior_'s holodeck, when she had invited him to lunch at a little restaurant in Japan. It always made him happy to think about how her demeanor changed when she was surrounded by things she loved. That lunch had been fun, even though he had handled the chopsticks atrociously. It had made her laugh, and that was all he cared about.

'_Too bad we had to leave that program and the others she gave me behind on the _Excelsior,' he thought as he activated the door chime.

There was no answer, so he rang the chime once more. The door still didn't open. "Computer, Arhea_ is _in her quarters, isn't she?" he inquired.

"Affirmative," came the prompt reply in the female monotone.

"Then why is she not..." His question was interrupted by the doors suddenly parting. The lights were low inside the quarters. Timir stuck his head in the room. "Arhea?" He took a step inside. "Hello?"

His wandering gaze fell on a bottle lying in the middle of the floor. He picked it up. Vodka. And it was empty. He frowned. His eyes immediately roved the dimly lit room once more. "Arhea?"

"Must you be so loud," a grumble came from the corner to his left, where the couch was located.

He moved to the dining table and quickly set the tray down, then turned toward the couch. Holding up the empty bottle, Timir's eyes fixated on what he could make out now to be Arhea's form seated on the couch. "What's this?" he asked in Rihannsu. They always spoke her native language when alone. In a way it was his native as well.

"Hmmm... looks like a bottle," her snippy remark came back, "same as this one." She held out an identical one in her hand.

Timir could see the glinting of liquid in the bottle she held; it wasn't empty. He slammed the empty bottle back down on the dining table. A few swift steps and he snatched the half-full vodka bottle from her hand.

"Hey!" she protested, speaking with a slight slur, "That's mine. Get your own! You've any idea how hard it was for me to pro... procu... get that? They don't even have ale on this damned ship."

"You're drunk." His tone was scolding as he sat down next to her.

"Well, congratulations," she flashed him a droll smile, "you're a total... genius." She reached to swipe the bottle from his hand. "Give it back."

"I don't think so." He shook his head, keeping the bottle out of her reach. Unbelievable. She was drunk as a skunk. "How did you even get this?"

"I've been on this ship for a while," she shot off with a shrug, "You get to know who's got the good stuff." A snicker.

Timir sighed. "Why are you drinking like this when we're suppose to be starting with our task?" He stood and walked to the replicator. "Here, let me get you something to clear your head. I brought food, too." He flicked his head in the direction of the covered tray on the dining table.

"You mean, you'll start with drilling in my head," she grunted.

=/\=

Rising from the couch, she stood there for a moment, swaying, blinking her eyes, hoping she could make her head stop spinning. It was harder than she had figured. She took a deep breath and fixated her gaze as best as she could on the table across the room, and began staggering toward it.

"Look, I thought you had agreed to..." Timir turned away from the replicator after recycling the vodka, only to find that Arhea was not seated any more. His eyes shifted to the dining table. "What are you doing?"

"Damn thing is empty," she complained, inspecting the bottle she had picked up with one eye closed.

"You don't need to drink any more," he moved toward her, "Sit down."

She shook the bottle upside down. It was indeed empty. "Why does everybody have to get into my business!" A blaze of anger. She threw the bottle vehemently across the room. It shattered on the wall.

Timir stopped abruptly. His jaw tightened. "Feel better now?"

Staring at the glass shards on the floor, Arhea's nostrils flared. The action and sound should have left some form of satisfaction within her, but quite to the contrary, it only reminded her of that day when Stacey, her former CMO, had shattered her blender on the wall. Balled fists tightened even more, until her knuckles turned white. And then suddenly the anguish over the whole situation about betraying her crew hit her full force, and spilled over.

A sob. Her knees buckled.

Timir caught her before she could collapse to the floor. He held her tight, while she wept into his arms. He wasn't sure what exactly had brought on this breakdown, but the unabating quivers shaking her body as she sobbed told him whatever was stressing her, it affected her deeply. He placed a tender kiss on the top of her head, just letting her cry it all out. There wasn't much else he could do.

=/\=

When the profuse sobbing finally ebbed, he swept her up into his arms. "You should lie down," he said in a whisper.

She sniffled, only nodding in reply. Her hands snaked around his neck as he carried her off into the bedroom.

"You smell good," she muttered when he lowered her onto the bed.

Timir chuckled. "You said the same thing last time I've carried your drunk butt to bed."

Arhea sunk onto the mattress, her arms still around his neck. "Heh. Then it must be true." A sheepish grin. "No taking advantage of me again either, hm?" She bit her lower lip softly as her eyes washed over his features.

Kneeling on one leg by the side of her bed, he covered her with a silken blanket. Then he reached to the back of his neck and gently pulled her hands apart, lowering her arms to the side of her body. "I wouldn't dare."

"Too bad..."

He couldn't help but chuckle again. "If you ever say that to me in a sober state..." He grasped one of her hands and brought it up to his lips. A tender kiss. "Good night, Arhea. Sweet dreams."

A grin curled the corner of his mouth when he looked back into her face and noticed she had already drifted off. He brushed a few strands of hair from her face, letting his thumb trail down her cheek. A soft sigh. If it would be his choice, he would slip under the covers with her and stay there all night watching her sleep. But as it was, patience was still in order.


	4. Chapter 3: Path to Supremacy

Chapter 3: "Path to Supremacy"

=/\= - =/\=

_Talvath system, on the outskirts of Romulan territory..._

For days, the USS _Umbra_ had been skirting along the edge of the small asteroid belt neighboring the orbit of Talvath II, keeping pace with the planet. Talvath was a perfect spot to keep a secure colony. The asteroid belt functioned as a sort of a spacial moat, with sensor probes dispersed at calculated intervals within the bewildering array of floating rocks. Of course, no defense system was perfect and this one was somewhat archaic, engineered to catch un-cloaked ships on a stealth approach. The _Umbra_ was anything but, and once the ship had made it inside the perimeter, it wasn't all that difficult to stay out of sight. Child's play for any well-trained SFI agent with the right equipment.

Much to Admiral Boris Michaev's chagrin, however, the investigation of the planet and, more specifically, the reconnaissance of the colony and the facility within that he suspected held the labs where his most sought out prize was being developed, was taking far too long. Good things come to those who wait was the saying. Michaev had waited a long time for this. Some five years of his life had been spent on getting to this very point. Even the recent setbacks had not deterred him. Nobody could say he wasn't a man of patience. But sitting this close to the subject of his ambitions now while nothing seemed to be happening was even wearing on a cold and collected man as himself.

The apparent serenity of the situation was deceptive, though. Michaev was well aware of that. He had mused more than once on how many cloaked Romulan vessel were actually poised out there, just waiting to spring into action at any perceived threat. So far, even the advanced sensors of his beloved Defiant-class had not been able to give him a glimpse of the enemy's numbers. With any luck, though, the two agents he had dispatched to scout out the location would bring him back all the pertinent information that was eluding him right now.

=/\=

The single ship that was in plain sight had not moved. It steadfastly held its synchronous orbit above the colony. Michaev narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the enormous mining vessel for the umpteenth time. Oh, he knew that the Mining Guild had encouraged its captains to spread out into more distant parts of the Empire, but this ship wasn't mining. At least not at the moment. No drill was deployed, nor any other actions had been taken to suggest they would drill any time soon. Why was it simply hanging there? Was it here for maintenance? Was the colony perhaps a mining settlement? Sort of a base of operation for the crew of that vessel?

"You sure this isn't the _Narada_?" Michaev broke the silence on the bridge. He knew of the carnage Captain Nero's vessel had left behind; Federation and Klingon ships alike had not been able to withstand it. But according to the last Intel reports on it, the ship had been destroyed by the artificial black hole created to halt the Hobus supernova.

"I'm positive," Zlarujysam 'Zlar' th'Kha, aka Agent Ice, confirmed. He partially turned from his console, looking over his shoulder. His antennae shifted toward the Admiral, "I've cross-referenced all identification markers the _Enterprise_ input in the databanks. It's definitely not the _Narada_. Besides, that ship was destroyed."

"So they think," Michaev muttered. "No contact from Succuba and QT yet, Micro?" he asked, staring at the back of his bald-headed helmsman.

Waridi, or Agent Micro, shook his large head. "No, sir," the Arkenite tapped a few buttons, "quiet as can be. You'll be the first to know if I receive anything, Admiral."

"I know." Michaev let out a long sigh and rose from the center chair. He walked to the back of the small bridge, stretching his legs. "Coffee, black," he ordered from the replicator. This was shaping up to be a long day.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

_Some nine months back..._

"They're all dead," Val Fosch, the SFI agent known to Boris Michaev as Trojan, reported with a grim expression, "Kalad, two other senators, their aides, and the shuttle's pilot." He grimaced at the man on the other side of the monitor. "I'm sorry, Admiral, I didn't make it on time."

"But who?" Michaev frowned. Kalad tr'Liun was his only connection to project _hruuhi_, a plan to develop a new thalaron weapon, spearheaded by a high ranking Tal'Shiar officer, Terrh ch'Vaeridh, who had been vying for the Director's seat ever since Rehaek had been assassinated by Sela.

"My guess... Terrh."

"The most obvious one, too." The Admiral's frown deepened.

"And the most reasonable," Val added.

"Perhaps..."

"If Terrh found out that Kalad was having dealings with you..." The agent let the words just hang in the air. It was pretty clear what the conclusion would be.

"I suppose," Michaev nodded, "if Terrh had all the supplies he needed... Kalad could have outlived his usefulness anyways," he ventured, "and if Terrh indeed found out about his connection to me..." He pounded a fist on his desk. "Damn. Kalad never told me where Terrh had his labs. I should have pressed him for it a long time ago. Politicians..." his fist hit the desk once more, "never let politicians talk you into making a deals. They're all untrustworthy."

"So are agents, Admiral," Val alleged.

"But agents know how to protect themselves," Michaev grunted. "Politicians find themselves in desperate straits, they scream for a rescue. They're like little children you have to take by the hand, or before you know it they're dead. The odds of that happening with an agent are minimal."

"I'm sure he would have gladly divulged anything you needed... if I had gotten to him on time," Val offered, though the consolation seemed empty the moment he said it.

"But you didn't."

"I know..."

"I'm not blaming you," Michaev assured. Trojan was one of his most trusted and reliable agents. But this setback unarguably stunk. "No time to cry over spilled milk, right?"

"Huh?" Val blinked.

"It's an old Earth saying," the Admiral explained, "way before your time." He rubbed his chin, his brow tense. "Hmmm... there has to be another way to find out where Terrh has his secret base..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

Michaev took a cautious sip from the hot beverage. A light grimace came over his face, not just because the coffee was just a tad too hot to drink with ease, but because the memory of that conversation brought his attention back to the fact that Trojan was no longer alive. It had been a bitter loss. Now all the Admiral had to rely on for reconnaissance was Ice, Succuba, and QT. The former wasn't known for his stealth, and the latter two were constantly at each others' throat.

'_You work with what you have_,' he thought, slowly walking back to his seat.

He eventually had found a way to locate Terrh's hideout, even it if had taken some nine months of painstaking work, a lot of creative thinking, patient waiting, and the death of one of his agents. In the end, the weapon would be his. One way or another.

Senator Kalad had been a fool to imagine Michaev had ever had the intention of uniting the Federation and the Romulans by causing the Klingons to withdraw their allegiance. This weapon was meant for far greater things than that. Why bother with a 'noble' cause if supremacy was in one's grasp, total domination of the galaxy!

=/\=

"Succuba just pinged us," Waridi informed.

"Beam them here, to the bridge." Michaev took a hasty gulp of the slightly cooler coffee as the transporter beam shimmered behind him.

"Go screw yourself!" The female voice spouted.

"I'm not a nymphomaniac like you," the male voice rebutted, "I have more control of myself than that."

"_Arrgh_..." Michaev jumped up, letting go of a slew of unsavory words as he whirled around. "Shut up you two! SHUT UP RIGHT NOW!" His face was beet red. He sat the cup down with a thud and brushed the spilled coffee from his lap. "If I hear so much as one more word between you, I swear I'll shoot you both out of an airlock."

He crossed the bridge to the replicator with hurried strides and ordered a towel. Cleaning himself up, he continued grumbling curses under his breath. Those two would be the death of him some day. He just knew it.

Zlar had turned about, shaking his head and given the pair a reprimanding look.

Meili Monoh, aka Agent QT, wrinkled her nose at the Andorian, but she dared not speak. She knew when Michaev was this peeved even her feminine wiles were no match; and she had plenty to wile with. A human augment, engineered with flawless features and a body to kill, metaphorically as well as literally, she was used to taking liberties with the Admiral on account of her charm. And while Michaev usually didn't censor her all too strictly, she knew when to shut her mouth. This was definitely an occasion to keep quiet.

=/\=

The awkward silence went on until Michaev was done drying himself off and returned the towel to be recycled. He moved to stand in front of the two agents. His hands clasped behind his back, his eyes laying darkly on both of them. "Dare I even ask?"

"If she's assigned to another scouting mission with me again, I'll quit," Kazra Rhaquiel, the one known as Agent Succuba, stated bluntly. "She almost blew our cover because she can't keep her libido in check."

"He didn't even notice the tip had come loose," Meili defended herself, though only mildly. She pulled the already dangling fake tip of her ear completely off, giving Michaev an innocent upswept look with her baby blue eyes. Her full lips pushed out in a slight pout. "He was too drunk, and too... engrossed in other things." An impish grin.

"Like your cleavage," Kazra huffed. "I got better things to do than watch some scumbag slobber all over you, while you revel in it."

"Aw, jealous?" She blew a mocking kiss his way.

"You wish." Kazra scowled. "I would just like to do my work without witnessing a disgusting display like that."

"I _was_ doing my work," Meili protested.

"Alright, enough," Michaev interrupted the exchange before it could get out of hand again. "Did you find out anything?"

"Of course," Kazra proclaimed, "I always get what I'm sent for."

"Because _I_ keep your subjects busy and oblivious of your intrusions," Meili groused.

"I don't need you to do that," Kazra fumed. He shot her a look, then focused back on Michaev, whose expression started to show growing impatience again. "Romulan minds aren't the easiest to penetrate," the half Betazoid, half Halaiin agent began, "but I managed. We found a worthy subject. He claimed to be working on a top secret project. I thought at first he was just trying to show off to... QT. And for a while he was rather tight lipped..."

"But I loosened his tongue," Meili smiled triumphantly.

"Not enough to tell her anything worthwhile," Kazra retorted. "Once I infiltrated his mind, however, it was confirmed that he indeed has a part in that project, though not at the highest level. He's a Tal'Shiar officer, one of several involved with Terrh ch'Vaeridh, whom he referred to as 'the Director.'"

Michaev leaned against the back of his chair, listening with interest. "So, they _are_ developing the thalaron weapon here?"

"They're already done," Meili injected eagerly.

Michaev's eyes widened in surprise.

"Let me finish making the report," Kazra squelched his counterpart. "_I_ was in his head, not you."

"No... I was in his pants," she muttered with a sheepish grin.

Kazra rolled his eyes. "Anyways," he looked back at Michaev, "this guy was some sort of Engineer. He's involved with actually installing and implementing the weapon."

The Admiral cocked his head. "Installing where? They have cloaked ships in orbit?"

"Well, yes," Kazra verified, "three from what I could ascertain, but... that's not where they're installing the generator."

"Then whe..." Michaev snapped up, his eyes suddenly growing wider in realization. "The mining vessel."

Kazra nodded gravely.


	5. Chapter 4: Justified Paranoia?

Chapter 4: "Justified Paranoia?"

=/\= - =/\=

"What are you doing?" Arhea peered into the living area of her quarters.

Commodore Anthony Greco's blue eyes cast up as he sat down the plate next to the utensils. "Fixing you breakfast. What does it look like?"

"I didn't know that was part of a Captain's job." She shuffled over to the table and flopped in the chair. "Toast and eggs?" She inspected the plate.

Tony lowered himself down on another chair. He folded his arms on the table, analyzing her for a moment with a pitying look on his face. "You look like crap."

Her green eyes lifted, flashing at him briefly. She grumbled, "Thanks for the compliment."

"I'm not here to compliment you." He shook his head and stood, walking back to the replicator. Punching a few button to call up a special beverage he had in his personal files, he waited until a tall glass materialized and returned to the table. "Here. Drink this first." He sat the glass down next to her and retook his seat.

She glanced at the greenish drink. A sniff. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "What is it?"

"A family recipe."

"Of?"

"Just drink it." He gestured. "All at once, without stopping."

"What if I don't want to?" Her lips pushed out in a pout.

"Do I have to make it an order?"

"Ha! Funny."

"Come on, Arhea," Greco pushed the glass closer to her, "show some of that Romulan guts. It'll make you feel better."

"You have a strange way of motivating me," she muttered, but grabbed the drink nonetheless. Once more her nose wrinkled as she brought the glass up to her lips. Then she tilted her head back and began gulping the somewhat oily beverage down.

=/\=

"You said it would make me feel better," Arhea lamented when she emerged from the bathroom, looking a little ashen. Her eyes were throwing daggers at the Commodore.

"It always worked for me after a night of boozing." Tony tried hard to bite back a grin.

"Like you ever." She plopped back on the chair.

"Hey, I wasn't born this sagely." The grin finally spread on his lips fully. "Had many years of growing up to do."

She stared down at the food with a sour expression.

"I can warm it back up," he offered.

"No thanks." She pushed the plate away. "I don't feel like eating."

"You should at least eat the toast," he suggested with a fatherly tone. "It'll settle your stomach."

"You're not my father," she snapped.

Tony threw his hands up. "I was just trying to help." He let out a long sigh.

"If you really wanted to help, you could have asked Lev to give you an anti-initoxication hypo for me," she spouted angrily. "As it is, you just wanted to see me suffer."

The Commodore crossed his arm on the table again. "Sometimes the consequences of our stupid actions help teach us not to repeat them," he mentioned.

"Aha!" She glowered at him. "See. I knew it! You're enjoying my misery."

He chuckled. "Not quite enjoying, but I would have expected a little more maturity from you," his face became more stern, "and Doctor Karpenko is not your personal stooge to give you an easy way out of the troubles you get yourself in."

"You don't understand..." She rose and traipsed to the window, gazing out to the passing stars, brooding.

=/\=

Tony stayed back at the table and watched her for a while.

"I'm really trying, Arhea," he stood and walked over, stopping just behind her, "I really am." He put a hand on her shoulder, looking at the reflection of her troubled features in the darkness of the window. "I know how hard it was for you to agree leaving the _Excelsior_, misleading your crew, and I _am_ here for you if you want to talk about it." His voice was soft and soothing. "But you also know what's at stake, and I must ask you to play your part... no matter how hard it might seem right now. Our foe doesn't feel pity for your personal circumstances. He'd only take advantage of it."

She shook her head. No, he really didn't understand what this drunken bout was all about. The thing tearing on her was much more personal than deceiving her crew. "I don't think I can let Timir into my head," she said in a whisper.

"He promised you that he'd only access your memories of Mirok... D'Nal," Greco assured with a gentle tone.

Her jaw tightened. She squirmed a little. He could tell she was grappling with something. Keeping a waiting attitude, he let her deal with her demons for a moment.

"That's just it," she finally said.

"What?

She exhaled with force.

Tony cocked his head ever so slightly, still watching her reflection intently. Understanding slowly began to come to him as he pondered. "There are things about you and D'Nal nobody knows but you?"

Arhea shifted uncomfortably.

"I see." He passed a hand over his goatee. "Well... I'm sure Timir wouldn't fault you..."

Her jaw clenched again.

It suddenly occurred to Tony that perhaps there was a very personal discomfort involved with the prospect of letting the Halanan delve into her relationship with her Tal'Shiar superior; perhaps even embarrassment. Could it be? Had he been so blind as not to notice an affinity between those two?

He decided not to query her on it, but simply to encourage her sense of duty once more, "I know you will do the right thing."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

Arhea stopped in front of the holodeck doors. Of course, she had eventually acquiesced to Greco's wishes. There was no way around the fact that a good portion of their strategy to foil Admiral Michaev's plans depended on her knowledge of D'Nal, and how well Timir could create a psychoprojective hologram of him.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and stepped inside the holodeck. To her utter surprise, she was greeted by the re-creation of a Japanese garden similar to the one she had had a program of on the _Excelsior_; only this one was missing the restaurant. It instantly caused her to drop her defenses.

Timir came down the gentle slope of the wooden bride. A ready smile was on his face. He noticed how astonished she was. "What do you think?"

"It... it's amazing," she had to admit. "Did you create it?"

"Mhmm." His amber eyes twinkled. "Not with my mind, of course," he clarified, "but the computer had plenty of data on Japan. I used it as a basis and adjusted a few thing." A warm smile. "I was hoping it would put you at ease."

Arhea gazed at him in wonderment. She couldn't remember one moment since they had taken him aboard the _Excelsior_ when he had not tried to accommodate her. Well, aside from the few where he felt he needed to counsel her on a certain, futile relationship. Thinking back on that, she suddenly realized the subtle hints of jealousy in his words and actions. He had tried hard to make his perceived rival look undesirable in her eyes.

A large portion of the crew had actually disliked Timir, simply for the fact that he had been labeled a "thief" after trying to rob Doctor Harris, the ship's CMO, on their initial encounter. The matter of him guiding the Away Team to the CMO once she had gotten lost had been all but dismissed by them in the end. Not so with Arhea. There had always been something comforting about him; perhaps it was the fact he spoke Rihannsu with the same familiarity as she did.

As the Captain, Arhea had of course been cautious and even a little unyielding with him at the start. She had found their SFC appointed guide just a little too smug back then. But she remembered clearly the first time Timir's presence had roused a feeling of attraction to him. In his quarter, the day he gave her the carved statue of the Tarkalean hawk; when his amber eyes had studied her features, his hand had caught beneath her chin and tilted her head upward. She had recoiled from him, largely due to her heart being entangled with someone else.

"I... failed in my attempt," Timir's glum voice snapped her back to the presence. His expression was one of concern.

"No no." She shook her head. She hadn't meant to make him feel rejected in any way. "It's... you... you didn't have to do this."

A genuine smile flashed across his face. "I wanted to."

=/\=

Probing into another person's mind wasn't as fun as it might have sounded to some. It took a great deal of finesse to handle the matter with tact. Of course, if one just wanted to rip information from it care wouldn't be needed, but Timir wasn't a mind butcher. And his subject was a friend whom he loved and respected. All due caution would have to be taken, especially since she still felt very uncomfortable with it.

They proceeded slowly. Arhea first had to drop a portion of her impressive mind shield. Then they established the telepathic link. And finally, Timir gingerly made inroads under her own guidance to the very information he needed. It was a precision operation and at times he could feel his nervousness rise. There were areas she definitely guarded. He made sure he stayed with her lead.

Once Timir had tapped into the correct memories, he had quickly become familiar with Mirok's mannerisms, his way of speaking, moving. Even little special idiosyncrasies that Michaev might have picked up on as well when talking to Mirok. An elaborate pattern began forming in the Halanan's mind; like a blueprint for a holographic re-creation. It filled him with satisfaction that all was going so well despite Arhea's worries.

Until, suddenly, like a chute that had opened up beneath his feet, plummeting him into a hidden abyss, an intense arousal sucked him in completely unexpectedly. Visual images and sensations mixed in a bewildering array of raw lechery. Sweat covered flesh pressing against her naked back. Leathery restraints around her wrist. Teeth and fingers digging into her skin.

Abruptly, Timir withdrew from her mind. He swallowed, his amber eyes staring at her frozen features. He was a little more than surprised.

Arhea's dark green eyes stared back at him, filled with horror.

He was as much at a loss of words as she was. But now he understood why she had been so reluctant. It was plain she had had an affair with Mirok, and from what Timir had gathered from the few seconds of exposure to the images, it had not been just a single instance. "I'm... sorry..."

Her look of shock turned to utter embarrassment. Heat flushed into her cheeks. She jumped up from the grass. "I think I gave you enough information to be able to make a fitting projection," she practically yelled.

He only nodded.

"Computer, arch," she barked. The doors barely had time to part before she rushed through them, fleeing out into the corridor and leaving a rather perplexed Timir in the wake.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

_In orbit of Talvath II..._

The distant clanking of metal and the muted shouts of orders reverberating through the expansive interior of the mining vessel didn't cause his stony facade to falter. It was a fitting backdrop to the already tense atmosphere his presence created. Terrh ch'Vaeridh was a Romulan of the worst kind. Cold, calculated, and corrupt. His frigid stare hung outside the large window of the _Lagga_'s upper level control center. A two-toned pair of eyes that gave him an even more menacing look than his acrid visage already portrayed scrutinized the dark void of space.

"Rekkhai," the familiar voice of the head Engineer interrupted Terrh's dark ruminations.

The Tal'Shiar renegade turned halfway around. Stark shadows enhanced his sharp profile and the scar that ran across the corner of his left eye as his face was partially illuminated by the limited light. He narrowed his eyes. The grayish-green left orb glowering at his subordinate.

"Installation of the central generator is complete," the Engineer reported with all due homage. "We've begun setting up the channeling of the cascading biogenic pulse through the barb conduits, rekkhai."

"How long?"

"Three days," the officer answered with trepidation.

Terrh didn't move for so long the head Engineer grew more and more anxious, unsure if his boss would suddenly lash out violently at what he might see as yet another delay, or if he would actually understand that there were dozens of pointed extension with long passages to map out and it would take some time.

"Not one day longer," Terrh's baritone growled. "I've waited long enough."

"Ie, rekkhai," the officer bowed repeatedly as he backed up, "of course not. We are in the finishing stages, rekkhai. I promise you."

"I'll hold you to that."

=/\=

With his groveling subject departed, Terrh returned his attention to the black void before him. The unusual pair of eyes, one grayish-blue, one grayish-green, settled back on the seemingly empty expanse, though he knew that three ships were keeping covert guard of his operations.

Three more days. For some that might have seemed like a long time, but considering it had taken Terrh years to gather the resources, seize the secret data to an improved kind of thalaron radiation generator, and develop it into a more fearsome weapon than Shinzon had even thought of, three days were trivial.

Regardless of the nearing climax of his labor, though, there remained a bitter taste. This little project of his should have been finished much sooner. Much had impeded a more speedy success. First, he had chosen his associates poorly, as Senator Kalad tr'Liun's had been slow at giving him the needed support and resources, and eventually had even tried to defraud him by having dealings with someone from Starfleet Intelligence. And second, the Hobus supernova and the destruction of his homeworld, ch'Rihan, had almost put a permanent halt to his undertaking. Luckily, he had evaded the fate of many of his brethren, and the Senator had been dealt with according to his trespasses.

Was the SFI aspect still a threat? Terrh wasn't sure. Considering one of his assassins had not returned from her assignment at Achernar, the possibility existed, and it put him a little on edge. But he had few assets left to spare to investigate the matter.

His eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing into nothingness. It was that very uncertainty that caused him to not be able to shake the feeling that he was being watched.

* * *

_Rekkhai = Sir_

_Ie = Yes_


	6. Chapter 5: Overcoming Romulan Obstacles

Chapter 5: "Overcoming Romulan Obstacles"

=/\= - =/\=

Arhea's bare fists pummeled the punching bag at the far corner of the gym. Over and over they connected with the leathery surface, causing the bag to sway ever more violently. Her breathing rapid, her blood swirling through her veins with dizzying speed, her body glistening with sweat. She was in "the zone", hitting the bag with unerring precision as it swung back toward her. Until one of her jabs left a greenish print on the leather.

She exhaled with force. No idea of how long she had been at this. Grabbing the bag and halting its motion, she looked at the spot. Blood.

Her eyes went to her knuckles. She had bashed them until they were raw. Smears of her blood covering the outside of her right hand, in some spots the green liquid was slowly oozing from her skin. Again, she exhaled deeply and let her arms drop to her sides. The pounding of her heart had ebbed somewhat by then, but it was still more rapid than at normal pulse.

She turned aside and grabbed a towel, dabbing her hand to clean off the blood.

The sound of the door hissing open behind her didn't distract her from doctoring her fist. The gym was open to everyone on the ship. She figured someone else was looking for some physical activity, though perhaps not working out their frustration as she was doing. But when no customary greeting resounded, she turned over her shoulder for a peek of the new arrival.

The towel dropped to the floor. She stood agape. A hiss, "D'Nal."

"Mirok, officially," the Romulan corrected her with a smug grin. "Do I really have to remind you not to give away my real identity so easily, Major?"

"I'm no longer in your services," Arhea spat, "you bastard!" And before he could react, she was upon him, rage spewing from her eyes as she unleashed her fury. "You used me!" A series of violent jabs. "You killed me!" A powerful kick. "I will make you pay!"

Mirok collapsed in a heap on the floor. But as she reeled back and went to kick him in the side, she found her foot passing through his beaten form, before it simply vanished completely.

=/\=

"You might need to work on that anger issue..."

Arhea's eyes snapped up. Again, she was left standing agape for a moment. She had been so focused on the Romulan that she had completely missed his presence. "Timir," she breathed. Suddenly putting it all together and realizing that Mirok had only been a projection of the Halanan, she snarled, "Damnit you. Stop that!"

"What?" Timir replied innocently, biting back the grin that wanted to creep up. She was utterly adorable when she was flustered. "If the projection fooled _you_, then it should be good enough to fool Michaev." He sauntered closer. "Which means, our efforts have been successful."

Her green eyes flashed dangerously at him. She was in no mood for banter. A huff. "You could have approached showing off your 'success' to me in a more tactful way." She made an about-face and walked back to pick up the towel.

He watched her with guarded amusement. When she bent down to retrieve the towel, he couldn't help but admire the nice view the fitted workout shorts afforded.

"I figured you came here to let some steam out," he noted with nonchalance, following her slowly, "but it seems you only stoked the fire."

She bristled and threw the towel to the side. "Smart ass..."

=/\=

Retrieving a couple of practice pads from a nearby bench, Arhea threw them at Timir. "Here. Since you're such an expert on what ails me, might as well make yourself useful."

He caught the pads. "If this is how you want to handle it..."

Her eyes flashed darkly, "It's how I always handle things." She balled her fists. "Put your hands up."

An exasperated sigh. He shook his head, but slid the pads on his hands and smacked them together, holding them up. "Alright..."

She was already at it by the time he finished the word. Her fists delivered several strong punches to the pads, driving him slightly back with each one.

Timir staggered a little. "Elements! Would you at least wait till I'm ready?"

"I thought you said you were?" she remarked snidely. She followed up with a few more jabs, before her leg came up and delivered a forceful kick.

He had absorbed the blows from the punches, but failed to block her kick fast enough. Taking the full blow of her Romulan-strength rage sent him to the mat with a thud. He grunted as she was on top of him in a second flat, straddling his torso, her hands grasping his shoulders and pressing him down into the floor mat.

"I don't like it when people try to tell me what to do," she hissed, leaning down into his face, "I don't like it when they play dumb games with me... and I don't like it when they try to control me." She scowled.

Timir gazed up at her, unflinching. "Have I ever?"

Arhea exhaled with force, still glaring down into his face. Though, her voice wasn't quite so edgy any more when she answered, "No..."

Control of her was never something he had been seeking. What he wanted was her love. And he had never hidden how he felt about her. She had just chosen to not see it. The moments when she had actually acknowledged it had mostly consisted of those times when various circumstances had weakened her mental wall. Until the other day... when he had come to see her after he had beamed to the _Paladin_ and she had welcomed his embrace as if she hadn't seen him for weeks. Though that moment had only been all too fleeting.

"You know how much I care about you," he reminded her with a gentle tone.

"What if I said I don't need anyone to care?"

Timir mentally sighed. She was still holding on to that stubborn attitude. His amber eyes were filled with sincerity as he held her obstinate gaze. "I told you before, you can put on your act and make the whole universe hate you, but I will not. I see right through that act, Arhea. So drop it."

Her jaw tightened. Damn that man. Why did he always manage to disarm her somehow? Was it because she expected aggression and he never showed her any that her defenses didn't work? How could anyone defend against a non-judgemental policy? Even the earlier revelation of her raunchy relationship with D'Nal seemed to have little impact on him. She had probably judged herself on the matter more harshly than anyone ever could. It certainly didn't seem to repulse Timir at all.

Unable to hold her stony facade any longer, her grip on him loosened. In a moment, he had rolled and reversed their positions, gently pinning her down to the mat now.

She stared up at him, though there was no defiance in her eyes any more. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into..."

His gaze softened. "I know exactly what I'm getting myself into." A warm smile washed over his face. "I told you on S'aith I don't need a one night stand, and neither do you."

For a few seconds Arhea wrestled with the urge of wanting to tell him that it hadn't been her he had said that to, but actually her clone. Just as quickly, though, she decided that it didn't matter. She had experienced it all through the link between the implanted chips in hers and her double's brains anyways. It had been as if he had said it to her. She breathed, "You're a fool..."

Timir smirked at her downright demure rebuttal. "You're right," his gaze hung on her features for the longest moment, "I am a fool." Why should he deny it? It was the truth. His thumb gently brushed across her cheek. "And this is how foolish I am..." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Though only for a few seconds before he released, yet didn't pull away.

She didn't recoil. She didn't resist him. She simply tried to allowed the sensations that his kiss had evoked to ebb, unwilling to give up the battle quite yet. Hot breath brushed against his lips still hovering above hers when she whispered, "I mean it..."

"So do I..." His mouth recaptured hers with ardent desire.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"...therefore, according to what I've deduced from my source," Kazra Rhaquiel's arms were in constant motion as he paced the bridge, "the installation of the weapon should be completed in two... three days, tops."

"Which doesn't leave us very much time to come up with a feasible plan," Michaev muttered.

"Precise timing will be of the utmost importance," Waridi concluded. "We cannot take over before the installation is complete, since we do not have the manpower to finish it ourselves. Nor can we wait too long after installation is done, since we do not want them to use us as their first target practice." He shook his bulbous head. "We would not stand a chance."

"Agreed." Michaev nodded in thought.

"Surely, you're not thinking of taking that ship on in battle, Admiral," Kazra interjected.

"Of course not."

"Gee, Suc, you think the Admiral is an idiot?" Meili Monoh spouted. Kazra's angry look didn't keep her from continuing, "Of course, we have to operate with stealth. Infiltrate them, then pounce." A wide smile came to her full lips. "I volunteer for donning the Rommie disguise again and mingle with the Engineers. I'll be able to signal you when..."

"Heck no! No way!" Kazra rejected loudly. "Admiral," he pointedly looked to Michaev, "don't send her over there. She's just going to blow the whole plan."

Michaev arched a brow and peered at Agent Succuba. "Did I say I would?"

"Hey!" Meili huffed, practically lunging at Kazra. "I play a convincing Rommie."

"Right..." Succuba scowled. "Like you did on the planet." He flashed her a dark look. "They're over there to work, not to screw around."

"You're just jealous!"

"As if. Tart!"

"Enough." Michaev raised his hand, shooting both of them an unmistakable glare.

"Like it or not," Zlar finally put his five cents in, "she is the only one aside from the Admiral that could truly pass as Romulan." He motioned to himself, "Turning an Andorian into a Rom won't work," then pointed to Waridi, "Micro's huge head can't be down-sized," and finally gestured to Succuba, "And you got those black Betazoid eyes that are a dead give-away."

"It worked on the planet," Kazra countered, "didn't it? There are such things as colored contacts, you know, Ice."

"_Nobody_'s going over there under cover," Michaev ended the debate with a determined tone. "When we go, we all go at once. We hit them fast. We hit them hard. That's all there's to it. It's our only chance." He eyed his agents, one by one. "We just have to figure out the right time."

A hush fell over the _Umbra_'s bridge.

=/\=

"We have been monitoring the comings and goings of personnel," Waridi noted, breaking the silence. "Once the work is completed, the majority of them should return to the surface. I would surmise that Terrh will only keep the most essential officers aboard for any testing."

"That seems reasonable," Michaev agreed.

"I doubt, though, that Terrh himself will leave," Kazra remarked.

"Why would we want him to leave?" Zlar looked puzzled.

"It would make it easier to take over," Kazra expounded on his thought. "Where there's no commanding officer, the troops are easier confused and overcome."

"But if we capture Terrh, we can use him as leverage," the Andorian retorted. "You hold the commander of a unit, you got them by the balls."

"That doesn't work with Rommies," Meili pointed out.

"She's right," Michaev confirmed with a nod, "if I know anything about Romulans, they won't negotiate. They might pretend to, but in the end their only goal would be to free their leader, by all means necessary." He rose from the center seat and paced the floor a couple of time, then turned back to his agents. "I still want him. It's important that we'll capture him... alive."

"But you just said..." Zlar began.

Only to be interrupted by Michaev, "I know what I said. I don't want him to bargain with. I want him because he knows all about the weapon." His eyes shifted to Kazra, "And I need you to access that knowledge."

"The lead Engineer would have that knowledge as well," Waridi observed.

"Very true," Michaev nodded, "but I can't imagine Terrh to be the kind of person that lets a subordinate know everything he does. No, he strikes me as a man that would hold full knowledge of everything involved alone." He furrowed his brow. "Particularly, full knowledge on his three cloaked aces in the hole."

The four agents exchanged looks and then all nodded in unison. As many times before, the Admiral's reasoning proved to be more precocious than their own, warranting their support of his plans and their loyalty to his cause.

=/\=

"Will you be able to re-create a telepathic link to that Engineer from here?" Michaev looked expectantly at Kazra.

"Only if he's on the mining vessel," the half Betazoid, half Haliian agent replied. "You know my telepathic range is limited. But with the use of the crystal I shouldn't have a problem connecting to his mind as long as we stay near enough."

"Good. You should be able to ascertain from him when precisely the installation will be completed, correct?"

"Yes, Admiral," Kazra affirmed.

"Get that established, now." Michaev looked at him sternly. "I need to know where exactly the control center of the vessel is located, where they installed the thalaron generator, and any other critical locations we must have in our control to be able to commandeer the ship and use the weapon."

"Aye, sir. I'll fetch my crystal." Kazra turned and left the bridge.

"Once we can zero in on those critical spots, we can make up our plan with more precision," Michaev addressed the trio left with him. "It's absolute pertinent for our success that we'll seize Terrh, alive," he emphasized once more. "But make no mistake. It won't be easy. He's proven himself a very clever man, with keen intuition, highly intelligent, and most of all... ruthless."

=/\=

The Admiral's speech was cut short by the computer announcing the reception of a subspace message.

Waridi looked at his console. His slender fingers moved over the buttons. "It's from Mirok," he glanced to Michaev, then back to the message, "Text only. He's informing us that he'll be here in three days... with reenforcements."

Michaev stepped up to the helmsman's seat and put his hand on the back of the chair. A heavy sigh. "Damn, that man likes to cut it close..."


	7. Chapter 6: Intimate Connections

Chapter 6: "Intimate Connections"

=/\= - =/\=

Her eyes fluttered open. For a long moment, Arhea simply stared at the wall. It took that long for her to recall where she was: Timir's bedroom.

A slight shift of her body caused the loosely draped arm of the Halanan to inadvertently brush across her skin. That touch was enough to drive a wave of goosebumps over her body. In its wake followed the memories of a night spent in his arms. The tender caresses of his hands, his mouth. The sound of arduous breathing, passionate whispers of words only meant for her. The fire in his eyes. The smell of sweat and salt. The sweet taste of his lips.

She had to forcefully pull herself away from the memory. It was so vivid. So overwhelming. What would it have been like if she'd actually allowed him to make a telepathic connection to her? She dared not think about it. The prospect was exciting and frightening at the same time.

Arhea carefully turned over, gazing at his sleeping form. Her eyes washed over his features. The mocha-colored skin, somewhat lighter than her own. The dark eyebrows that provided a dramatic frame for his amber eyes. The light stubble along his jawline that offset the softness of his curly, black hair, giving him a more rugged look. The lips that begged her to kiss him even now.

She reached up to brush a twisted strand of hair from his face when her eyes caught on the window beyond the bed. '_Wait...what the..._'

As gently and yet as swiftly as she could, Arhea rolled to the edge of bed, slipping out from beneath his arm and the sheets, and stood. I took her only a few moments to skip around the room collecting her clothes, getting dressed, and sneaking out of his quarters without waking him.

=/\=

Some ten minutes later, Arhea stepped into a turbolift headed for the bridge. Cleaned up and in black fatiques, she joined the lone occupant of the lift, First Lieutenant Syn Carax.

The Bolian's dark blue eyes met her gaze. "Going to the bridge, Captain?"

"Aye," Arhea nodded, answering in crisp Federation standard, "but I am no Captain... not any more."

"I can't very well call you by your first name, sir," Carax pointed out.

"Why not?"

"It seems... improper."

"Hm." Arhea's brow crinkled slightly. She hadn't given it any thought thus far how anyone should address her, now that she was officially not existing any more... at least, not as Captain T'Ashal. "Tell me, Lieutenant, why is the ship at full stop?" She decided to focus on something else.

"Our sensors have detected a damaged Romulan shuttle, about an hour ago," the Chief Science Officer explained. "We've been on an intercept course and have just arrived at the coordinates."

"I see..." Arhea tried to ignore the slight churning in the pit of her stomach. For whatever reason, she was getting a really bad feeling. "I wish somebody would have aler..."

Her words were swallowed by the sound of klaxons as the ship went to red alert. The two women exchanged ominous looks.

"Computer, resume," Carax ordered, and the lift continued on its way to the bridge.

=/\=

"I am _not_ violating your space," Commodore Greco asserted, facing the viewscreen, as Arhea and Carax stepped onto the bridge, "I'm traversing your territory with the permission of your government."

"You were traveling under cloak," the dark-skinned Romulan on the screen countered vehemently.

"So were you," Greco replied as if that truly was a counter argument. "We picked up the damaged shuttle on our sensors and came to investigate," he informed matter-of-factly.

"This is _my_ sector to patrol," the Romulan retorted, "not yours. This is none of your business."

"Our scans indicate that the shuttle holds a fugitive," the Commodore insisted, "that's make it our business. I want him in my brig."

"You have no jurisdiction here!"

"Do I have to contact your superiors?" Greco didn't back down.

"I've already advised Galae Command that we've encountered you," the Romulan snapped.

"Give Admiral Rohnok my regards," Greco rumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't move his eyes from the screen when he ordered, "Lieutenant Bauer, lock on to Mirok and his companion and beam them into our brig."

"Mi..." Arhea's eyes widened.

"Too late, sir," Marshall Bauer reported, "the Roms just beamed 'em over to their ship."

"I will launch a formal protest," Greco addressed the Romulan on the viewscreen again. "That man is a fugitive, wanted for the murder of a Federation Captain. He's highly dangerous. Don't you get it?"

"That man is badly injured," the Romulan disputed, "and he needs medical care. Which he will only properly receive in a facility that is set up to deal with Rihannsu anatomy. And that is _US_."

"Then I want to speak with his associate," the Commodore demanded.

"Not possible."

"Listen here, you..." Greco bristled.

=/\=

"Commodore," Arhea's voice was unusually soothing when she stepped up next to Greco, and into the visual field of the viewer. She put a hand to his arm to alleviate his frustration, "Let me try."

Her dark green eyes met the Romulan's dark green eyes peering back at her from the screen. "Riov Hvaid," she addressed him in Rihannsu, "nothing is accomplished by shouting at one another and threatening one another over the comm channels. Please, give us the honor to receive you on our humble vessel, and let us talk... like civilized people."

The Romulan held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Agreed."

Greco looked dumbfounded, but then quickly used the more cooperative attitude of the Romulan commander to his advantage. "Riov, would you bring the uninjured occupant of the shuttle with you on your visit... please?" He flashed a smile. "I have a few questions for him."

Hvaid's eyes peered at Greco, then shifted back to Arhea. A pause. He looked back to the Commodore, "Very well."

The viewscreen went to the image of the Spectre-class warbird hanging in space, with the shuttle between them.

=/\=

"Whew, I almost thought this was gonna end badly," Lt. Cmdr. Lyle Edmundson exclaimed.

"_That_'s why it's always good to have a Romulan on board," Greco smiled and patted Arhea on the back, "right, my dear?"

She rolled her eyes a little. "I would like to go to the transporter room and greet our guest," she requested.

"By all means," Greco nodded, "accompany them to the briefing room then. I'll be waiting there."

"_Not_ without two security guards," Edmundson objected. He met Arhea's gaze, rebuffing her argument before she could make it, "Standard procedure, sir."

She sighed, entering the turbolift. "Fine. But tell them to stay back."

"That can be arranged." The Chief grinned at her as the doors closed.

=/\=

"Lyle, you're with me," Greco called out to Edmundson as he stepped in another turbolift, "and turn off that damned alert." He turned around and looked back onto the bridge. "Commander T'Luz, you've got the conn. Keep everything under control up here."

"Yes, sir." The Vulcan First Officer took a seat in the command chair, watching the two men depart. She fixated her eyes on the warbird before them. Her head cocked ever so slightly as she gazed at the ship. "Fascinating. I am astounded how well this encounter has gone thus far," she commented.

Marshall Bauer turned his attention from the Ops controls and glanced back at T'Luz, an incredulous look on his face. "Oh yeah... that went like a bomb," he griped, "first we cheese off the Roms an' now they're comin' over fer a visit. Ah dunno 'bout you, sir, but it reeks like a week-ol' mak'rel left out in the sun. Ah don't trust 'em."

"What does this have to do with cheese and fish, Lieutenant?" T'Luz looked exasperated. It would be a miracle if that man ever learned to speak correctly.

"Nevermind." Bauer wagged his head and swiveled back to his work station again. "Vulcans..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Glad you could make it so quickly," Greco motioned Timir to a chair in the briefing room, "sit down."

"What's this all about?" The Halanan lowered himself in the seat, looking back and forth between Greco and Edmundson with anticipation.

"That." The Commodore flicked his head toward the monitor on the near wall, where the scene displayed was that of Transporter Room 2. "We're having guests."

Timir's gaze shifted to the monitor. To his surprise, aside from the technician, two security guards were present, and Arhea. So that's where she had gone.

Just then, two Romulans materialized on the transporter pad. The dark-skinned one stepped off the platform first.

Greco looked at Timir, "Do you know him?"

"No..." The Halanan shook his head, observing the scene carefully.

"Looks like Arhea does," Greco noted.

"I can see that," Timir muttered as he watched Arhea and the man greet each other fondly and then embrace with joy. There was a little twinge of jealousy that suddenly pricked him. He pushed it aside, reminding himself that he hadn't ask her if her devotion was only to him. How could he get upset if she had made no permanent promises to him alone? He would have to address that matter as soon as possible.

"She identified him by name on the bridge," the Commodore's words snapped him back to the current issue at hand, "a Riov Hvaid."

"Doesn't ring a bell," Timir insisted. "The name Hvaid is not unusual. If you had a last name, perhaps I could look it up in my files."

"I'm sure Miss Arhea will tell us more, soon," Chief Edmundson piped in.

"I'm sure." Greco nodded. He shut off the monitor since there wasn't anything to see on it any more aside from the technician. His eyes shifted back to Timir, "I would still like you to double check and see if you have anything on that man... later."

"As you wish, Commodore."

"It would really be much easier if you'd give us access to the data rods, Timir," Greco folded his hands on the desk, "instead of me having to keep asking you all the time. That information you gathered _is_ property of Starflee Command after all."

"And you know exactly why I keep it under my control," the Halanan countered, slightly perturbed. It wasn't really Greco he was upset with, but it didn't help that the Commodore insisted on talking about the matter. He sighed. "It's nothing against you, Commodore. You're one of the few Fleeters I trust. But I don't trust Command. So I must decline until they give me an official pardon and let me go my own way."

The Commodore grimaced. "I know..."

=/\=

"Welcome to the USS _Paladin_, Riov Hvaid." Anthony Greco rose from his seat when the Romulans entered. He motioned to the table and chairs. "Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable."

Chief Edmundson directed the two security guards to stand outside the briefing room door with a flick of his head. He scrutinized the two Romulan males as they passed by him. The doors closed behind the arrivals, and Lyle leaned against the wall.

"Jolan'tru," Hvaid greeted. "You should know, Commodore, my Chief Security Officer was not pleased when I insisted on beaming over without accompaniment aside from Arrain R'Kal," he gestured to the man Greco had requested would accompany him, "I hope my trust is not misplaced." His eyes pointedly met Greco's, then Timir's.

Arhea stepped up next to the Romulan captain. Her gaze shifted between Greco and Timir. "This is Riov Hvaid tr'Khaiell, Captain of the warbird _Greiirh_," she introduced the man with the dark skin. A slight pause, before she added, "He is my oldest brother..."

* * *

_Galae = Romulan Fleet_

_Riov = Commander (SF rank equivalent: Captain)_

_Jolan'tru = hello/goodbye_

_Arrain = Centurion (SF rank equivalent: Lieutenant)_


	8. Chapter 7: So Much to Talk About

Chapter 7: "So Much to Talk About"

=/\= - =/\=

"Brother?" Greco, Timir, and Edmundson exclaimed in one accord.

"One of three," Arhea confirmed.

"Aren't you full of surprises," Commodore Greco noted dryly.

"She's not the only one..."

Everybody's eyes shifted to the Romulan that had accompanied Hvaid, as he spoke up. Arrain R'Kal smiled broadly at the baffled group. He stepped back toward the window a little. His gaze moved to Greco.

Chief Edmundson's hand instinctively went to his phaser when the man separated himself from the rest of the group and fixated on the Commodore. On high alert now, he was ready to call in reenforcements at the drop of a hat.

The amused smiled didn't vanish from R'Kal's face when his body suddenly began shifting form to that of a Human male; mid-thirties, collar-length, medium brown hair, rugged face, fair skin, earth tone clothes. The only things that didn't morph where his deep golden eyes and the belt around his waist with the holster holding the Romulan disruptor.

In the same instance, Edmundson and Hvaid each had their weapon aimed at the changeling.

"Whoa, whoa, gentlemen," the alien held up his hands, "I haven't even touched my sidearm." He glanced back to the Commodore.

"Temba!" Greco shot around the table and grabbed the changeling by the shoulder, shaking him lightly in greeting. "I almost thought a black hole had swallowed you up. I hadn't heard from you since the Koliba incident." He smiled at the man.

Everyone else held about the same confused expression on their faces.

"Commodore?" The Chief queried.

"Oh, yes," Greco realized the weapons were still up, "you can put those away. No danger here." He nodded to Edmundson and Hvaid, then addressed the whole group, "This is Temba, one of my operatives. Similar circumstances as Timir," he said in explanation and briefly glanced to the Halanan. Then, he slapped his hand on the alien's back, "Temba's a Chameloid."

"Sorry," the operative in disguise shrugged, "didn't mean to startle anyone, but I needed to let the Commodore know who I was."

"And you almost got your head blown off for that stunt." Lyle Edmundson grumbled something more unsavory under his breath as he holstered his phaser.

Riov Hvaid was more reluctant to put his weapon away, until Arhea gently grabbed his hand and guided the disruptor back into its holding place. He glanced at her, remarking in Rihannsu, "I'm starting to feel outnumbered."

"No need to," Timir gave assurance in the same language before Arhea could reply. He made brief eye contact with her, then looked back at the Romulan officer.

Hvaid inclined his head in a slight nod, eying the Halanan.

=/\=

"We have a lot to discuss." Greco beckoned all to sit down at the briefing room table. "You, too, Lyle." He motioned to the Security Chief.

The Commodore exchanged looks with his Romulan guest. "I must insist that Mirok will be handed over to me once he's stable."

Hvaid spoke at the same time, "What was a Starfleet spy doing on board that shuttle?"

They both paused, undecided who was going to go first. Greco finally relinquished, "Go ahead, Captain."

Hvaid took a deep breath. "You had an operative amongst my people."

"Surely, you must be aware of such things," the Commodore replied evenly, "considering your government does the same." He shot a pointed look to Arhea.

"What interest does Starfleet have in a small arms dealer, such as Mirok ch'Taris?" Hvaid continued.

"As I tried to tell you earlier he's wanted by the Federation for the murder of a Starfleet Captain," Greco explained.

"And he's wanted by _my_ government for trafficking in illegally obtained weaponry," Hvaid countered. "He'll be tried for those crimes before the Empire would ever consider extradition by the Federation, Commodore."

Greco sighed. His eyes met Arhea's.

She nodded in understanding and laid her hand on her brother's arm. "Hvaid," she waited until he turned to look at her, "Mirok ch'Taris is not who you think he is. The name is simply an alias for Ssiebb D'Nal tr'Khev," she expounded. "He was my direct superior in the Tal'Shiar."

Hvaid's brow furrowed. The fact that his little sister had joined the infamous Intelligence Service some fifteen years back had always been a thorn in his side. Speaking of it didn't make him any more agreeable to matters at hand.

"And that's why your changeling spy was with him?" he asked, looking back to Greco.

"Actually, I had no idea he was with the Tal'Shiar," Temba answered instead, "I simply had found out about him overthrowing the leadership on Abraxas with the help of Klingons, and his connection with Michaev."

"Klingons on Abraxas?" Hvaid's eyes widened. "And who's Michaev?" This was getting more and more confusing.

"Admiral Boris Michaev is the man I had in my crosshairs for years," Greco disclosed, "He's a corrupt Starfleet Intel officer."

"There are uncorrupt ones?" Hvaid replied with a snort.

"About as many as their are in the Tal'Shiar probably," Chief Edmundson opined.

The Romulan nodded.

"Anyways," Greco continued, his gaze wandering to Temba, "we had been under the impression that Mirok had been killed at Abraxas."

"No," the Chameloid shook his head, "he had an escape plan. Had a shuttle waiting and ready. All I had to do was take on the likeness of the guy that was going to be his pilot and then get off the planet with Mirok." He leaned his arms on the table. "After he got what he wanted from the Starfleet Captain," he looked straight at Arhea, "who, by the way, looked a lot like you... minus the ridges, he headed to the underground shuttle bay. We launched just as the bombardment of the facility started and got caught in the attack. The shuttle sustained enough damage that we finally got stranded here."

"And you had been in the middle of this, how?" Arhea gave the operative a cool look.

"I had infiltrated the Klingon troops," Temba answered just as coolly, "Once I realized Mirok was jumping ship, I neutralized the Romulan pilot and took on his appearance."

"How did he sustain his injuries?" Hvaid asked.

"I wouldn't know," Temba locked eyes with the Romulan, "I wasn't with him the whole time on his way to the shuttle bay." He shrugged. "I suppose some of the Klingons weren't happy about him leaving them behind."

=/\=

A series of bleeps interrupted the discussion. Hvaid reached for his belt and retrieved his comm unit. "This is Riov Hvaid," he answered in Rihannsu.

"_Maenek Eviess here, rekkhai_," a female voice came back, "_I'm sorry to report, but my patient just succumbed to his injuries_."

"He's dead?" Hvaid raised a brow.

"_Ie, rekkhai_."

"What kind of injuries?" Timir probed in the local tongue.

"_Multiple cuts from what appeared to be daggers. Massive head trauma. Internal bleeding_," the Doctor reported.

"In other words, someone beat the life out of him," Timir ventured.

"_Ie_," the female confirmed, "_quite fiercely_."

"Thank you for informing me, Maenek," Hvaid acknowledged, before closing the comm link. He glanced up at Timir across the table, "You speak the local tongue very well, and yet you're obviously not from around here."

Timir nodded. "So does Temba."

"Yes," Hvaid's eyes briefly shifted to the operative next to the Halanan, "but he speaks it with precise accuracy, like a politician. You actually carry a heavy regional accent, like the common people."

"I take that as a compliment."

The corner of Hvaid's mouth lifted in a half smile. "You're a curious individual."

=/\=

Timir's gaze shifted to Arhea, sitting next to her brother. She wore a blank, far-off expression on her face. The one that he had seen on her before when something completely flustered her and she had trouble resolving it in her head.

"Arhea," he tried to get her attention, "are you alright?"

She remained frozen, dozens of thoughts tumbling around in her mind. D'Nal was dead? Actually dead? She wasn't sure if she should jump up and dance, or blow up in a fit of rage over not being the one who had sent him to his demise. The memories of the input she had received via the link with her clone's implanted chip just before Commodore Greco had Doctor Karpenko sever the connection bubbled up. Remembering those final moment of her double only made her more angry. The ruthless betrayal of a man she had once thought she loved was an enormous blow to take. But contrary to his plans, she had survived. He had not.

Timir could see her eyes darkening as she brooded. He knew that didn't bode well. "Arhea!" he called out louder.

It actually seized her from those dark thoughts and brought her back to the present. She blinked. A rueful look at Timir, before she turned her attention to Greco.

"We know he was heading to the Talvath system," the Commodore stated for those that didn't know where the _Paladin_ was going, "to meet up with Michaev. Did he divulge anything else while you were with him, Temba?" He looked expectantly at the operative.

"He had me contact the few ships of the small Klingon fleet that had manged to escape destruction at Abraxas," Temba responded. "They sent us back a message that they managed to meet up with the third wave of their ships that had been on the way to Abraxas."

"How many in all?" Hvaid was curious.

"Nine ships," the Chameloid answered.

"What kind?" Lyle Edmundson queried.

Temba looked at the Chief. "One battlecruiser, eight Birds of Prey."

"That's a formidable force." The Romulan captain looked to Greco. "But if they're cloaked it'll be almost impossible to find them in open space."

"We know they're heading to Talvath," Greco looked at all in the room, "we'll just have to deal with them there." He addressed Temba again, "Did they say when they'll be arriving?"

"Approximately four days from now."

"Hm." Greco ran a hand over his goatee. "We'll be up there in two..."

"You're not planning on taking them on alone, are you?" Hvaid looked a little stunned.

"_That_'s something I'd like to talk to you about," the Commodore remarked.

"What's drawing everyone to Talvath anyways?" the Romulan wondered aloud, "That small colony is hardly worth the travel. I don't even know if it still exists."

"That's _another_ things we need to talk about..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"I thought we'd never get finished," Arhea lamented, stepping into her personal quarters.

"We had a lot to talk about," Hvaid followed her inside, "A lot of important things." He let out a long sigh. His gaze drifted over the room. "I can't stay very long, but I wanted to see you alone for just a few minutes."

She smiled and fell into his arms. For a while, the siblings just stood there, embracing one another. It had been a long elven years since they last seen each other.

"So, you're not with the Tal'Shiar any more?" Hvaid loosened his hold on her.

"No." She smiled up at him.

"But you're working for Starfleet?"

"Well... sort of..." She looked apologetic. "I actually had been sent to infiltrate Starfleet under the Vulcan alias T'Ashal... gather intelligence... wash out the double agents and traitors... like Proconsul M'Ret."

"_You_ had a hand in that?" He looked astonished.

She nodded.

Hvaid let go of her and took a step back. "Only to turn traitor yourself..."

"No, no." She shook her head adamantly. "It's not like that, Hvaid. You heard Greco. The threat is to _both_ of our peoples, to the whole quadrant... perhaps the whole galaxy. I believe him and that's why I joined his efforts to help him stop Michaev," she explained, looking pained that her brother would see her as disloyal, "I think this is a unique opportunity for our peoples to work together. I wish nothing more than a successful coalition in this effort. It could be the beginning of a new era, Hvaid." Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. "An era of cooperation between the Empire and the Federation..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

_Greco's Ranch, Greece, Earth; two years ago..._

"I do not understand why you want me to take command training. I have long forsaken the idea of taking up a field post." T'Ashal slung her bag over her shoulder, waiting for the shuttle's hatch to open. "I belong here. I like it here. On Earth. At Starfleet's Fleet Operations," she said adamantly, her green eyes locked onto Anthony Greco. "Have I not done good work for you all this time?"

"Of course." He sighed, exiting the shuttle.

"Then why do I get the feeling you are trying to get rid of me because I displeased you in some way?" She didn't let go of the issue as she followed him outside.

Greco walked a few meters toward the ranch house, then stopped and turned to face her. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes. But..."

"Then trust me with this, too, T'Ashal." He dropped his own luggage on the dirty ground and grasped her by the shoulders. "I _need_ you to do this."

"But..." She started to counter again, then stopped. Seeing the unwavering look in his eyes, she shrugged his hands off, slammed her bag down into the dirt, and spouted, "I will not!"

"Why?" He dropped his hands in resignation. "Because it would cause you to have to abandon your orders?"

She stared at him with utter confusion.

"Your Tal'Shiar orders," Tony clarified.

"What?"

He crossed him arms over his chest. "I know who you are, T'Ashal. Or should I call you... Arhea?"

"I do not know what you are talking about," she insisted.

"Yes, you do." There was actually a twinkle in his eyes when he said that, not anger. "You are a Tal'Shiar officer, placed as a sleeper agent into Starfleet, to spy on us."

"Preposterous."

"Is it?" Greco locked eyes with her, more sternly now, but still no anger in them. "I have my sources, T'Ashal. Sources that I trust can get me the truth."

"Well, if you know who I am, why have you not turned me in yet?" she challenged.

"I have my reasons," he said more softly, uncrossing his arms.

"Which are?"

"I cannot tell you." He could tell she was about to spout something again and cut her off, "But I thought we've come to have mutual trust. I've kept your identity to myself for as long as I've known it," he assured her, "All I'm asking you to do is this _one_ thing."

"So, you are black mailing me into doing this," she noted dryly.

"No." He sounded a little exasperated.

"Good." She frowned at him. "Then I will take my leave. I have no reason to stay here waiting to be exposed and taking into custody." Picking up her bag, she slung it over her shoulder again. "I might as well go back to my people." She turned and started toward the shuttle.

=/\=

"Don't.. please." Tony caught up with her and put his hand on her shoulder, arresting her movement and turning her toward him. "I need you to stay right where you are," he pleaded. "Do this... for me."

Her face was set. "Then I ask you again, for what reason?"

He sighed deeply. "Because I'm not the only one that knows who you are, T'Ashal."

"What?" She searched his eyes. "Who else?"

His hand dropped off her shoulder, he averted his eyes to the dirt below. A forced sigh. "I can't tell you."

"Is that going to be your response to everything?" Her voice became heated once more.

"No..." Again, he sighed heavily, his eye lifting back up to look at her. His voice was hushed but sincere, "What I _can_ tell you is that I'm positive the person who does know of you as well has some sort of underhanded dealings with someone in the Romulan government, and that it could spell potential disaster for both our peoples."

"That is not much to go on for asking me to stay here and risk my life," she confessed.

"I know." He nodded, putting his hand on her shoulder again, this time with an expression of warmth and friendship in his gaze. "But you've known me for nine years now, T'Ashal. Have I failed you yet? Don't you have reason to trust in me?"

"Perhaps..."

"Then please, trust me with this," he intreated her, "Please, go take the command training courses and let things play out, so that we can stop whatever this person is scheming."

"I do not understand what me taking command training could possibly have to do with that," she admitted her confusion, but her voice reflected that he hit a soft spot in her heart. She indeed wanted nothing more than both of their peoples to work together for the common good of them all.

"You will... in time." Tony gave her a soft smile.

"But until then you 'cannot tell me anything'," she repeated his own words with a little bit of mock-cynicism to her voice and an exasperated sigh.

He shrugged, still holding that smile. "I'm sorry..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Don't you think that's a little idealistic, Arhea?" Hvaid gave her that big-brother look that turned the word 'idealistic' into 'unrealistic.' She hated that look. "You're starting to sound like Jaron and his ideas of re-unification he was trying to sell me when we last saw... each other..." He sighed. That had been before Hobus.

"And what's wrong with that?" Arhea looked at him defiantly, "There are plenty of others that think Rihannsu and Vulcans should re-unify. Including Ambassador Spock."

"Well, he's not around any more, is he now?" he countered, "Neither is Jaron..."

"Jaron is just fine," she informed him with a little pride in her voice, "and so is his wife and kids... and our parents."

Hvaid grasped her by the arms. An excited tone in his voice, "You spoke to them? After the destruction of ch'Rihan?"

"Yes. I ran into them... about three months ago."

A relieved smile washed over Hvaid's face. There was even a tiny glimmer of wetness in his eyes. "That's wonderful." It truly brought him joy to hear that his younger brother and his family, and their parents had not perished. "What about S'Hauen?"

"I don't know..."

"Last time I heard," he recalled, "he had achieved the position of personal aide to Senator Kalad tr'Liun." Hvaid wagged his head, "Foolish boy... getting into politics."

"Now, _he_'s always been the idealist," Arhea remarked about their youngest sibling.

"And a fool..."

=/\=

She chuckled. "Men have that tendency," she noted with a grin as she walked up to the wooden depiction of a Tarkalean hawk sitting on a small pedestal. Her fingers stroked over the delicately carved feathers of the creature's spread wings.

Hvaid stepped up behind her, inspecting the artwork. "A gift?"

She nodded. "Timir made it."

"He's talented."

"Brilliant, really." Her smile brightened. "He's got the most gentle touch..." She bit her lip, feeling like she had said too much already.

"No need to conceal it, Arhea. I saw how he looked at you."

"Oh?" She turned and cast a coy glance up at her brother.

"What is it with you and alien races?" Hvaid wagged his head. "Isn't there any Rihannsu that catches your eyes?"

"I like widening out...?" She suppressed a giggle. "Beside, he's not all that alien. Just in looks... a little. But he does have pointed ears."

"I've noticed the command he holds on our language. I suppose that _is_ a plus."

"Then you like him?" Arhea's smile lit up the room.

"Maybe..." Hvaid couldn't hold back the grin. She seemed happy, and that was good to see. He pulled her close, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I need to go now."

=/\=

"I almost ran into your brother." Timir entered her quarters only moments after Hvaid had left.

"No worries. He knows about us," she smiled, "You don't need to sneak around with him."

"No, I meant, I almost _ran_ into him... literally."

"Ohh." Arhea snickered.

"So, there is an _us_?" He gathered her into his arms.

"You think I was playing around with you last night?" She looked a little puzzled.

"I was hoping you weren't," he ushered her to the couch and pulled her down into his lap, "but it's not like you haven't been deceptive with me before."

"Not about this," she countered with mock annoyance.

"Mhmm." He grinned, loosening a few buttons on that black fatique top and pushing it off her shoulder. His lips began a gentle dance across her skin. "I couldn't help but think about who you truly are after that meeting ended," a little nip to the nape of her neck, "and all the things I've learned about you since I've left the _Excelsior_," hot kisses trailed up her slender neck, "and all that you concealed from me back then."

She chuckled softly, wiggling in his lap, when he reached her ear and nipped at her ear lobe. "Like?"

He halted his caresses and gazed at her. "Like that day when you came to my room and we had a few ales... and you told me that you were a Romulan spy."

"Oh." She grinned sheepishly.

"You deceived me by telling me the truth," Timir asserted, trying his best to give her the evil eye.

A broad smile spread on her lips. "You're cute when you try to look mad."

"Don't change the subject," he tried to remain stern.

She softly bit her bottom lip. "Or...?"

"Or I might have to hold you in custody for the rest of the day." His expression was serious, though he couldn't keep the mischievous twinkle out of his eyes.

Her initial smirk faded. "Dang. You can't. We're suppose to be meeting with Greco and Temba this afternoon again," she reminded him of what the Commodore had ordered.

"Well... then I guess we better hurry," he urged.

"Yes, we better!" She quickly shifted and straddled his lap. A firm grasped to the front of her shirt. A swift pull. Buttons flew in all directions as she ripped the shirt open and tossed it off.

* * *

_Arrain = Centurion (SF rank equivalent: Lieutenant)_  
_Ssiebb = Colonel (Tal'Shiar rank)_  
_Maenek = Doctor_  
_Rekkhai = Sir_


	9. Chapter 8: Investigations

Chapter 8: "Investigations"

=/\= - =/\=

The thundering of her heart slowly ebbed. Her breathing steadied. A feeling of satisfaction and peace washed over her. It allowed the sound of his heartbeat to come to the fore. She pushed away from his chest and met his gaze.

There was a certain wonderment reflected in his eyes, mixed with a longing that betrayed the gratification he had just received. His hand gently stroked along her jawline, his thumb brushing over her lips. He let his eyes follow his fingers as they trailed down her neck, moving along the contours of her collar bone, and outlined the gentle curve of her shoulder.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Arhea's voice was soft, "when I'm not with you." She caught his hand with her own and halted its caresses. "I have to literally force myself to stop and direct my mind elsewhere. I thought _you_'d be the one with the addiction, not me."

Timir smiled whimsically. "I think you're confusing natural humanoid tendencies connected to infatuation and desire with addiction." He squeezed her hand gently.

"Maybe." Her eyes hung on his, as if she could ascertain the answers to her confusion simply by looking at him. "But I think chemical reactions to intimacy and the progress that leads one to fall in love could easily be compared to an addiction... albeit mild." She bit her lower lip when he brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a tender kiss upon her slender fingers. "What I feel seems more than mild. I just thought that bonding with you would affect you more forcibly than me. That _is_ why I had resisted to bind you to me for so long."

"Bonding?" His smiled widened. His voice carried his subtle bemusement with it, "We haven't truly achieved a bond yet, Arhea." Both hands slipped around her waist. "True, the connection is there. The chemical process to take me to the dependency you worry about so much _has_ started, and I can assure you, I feel its throes stronger than you do." He drew her just a little closer. "But this is nothing compared to what will happen once we establish a telepathic link..."

"I'm sorry." She could hear the slight disappointment over her refusal to let him into her mind in his voice. Her heartbeat sped once again, not just from him pulling her close, but from the sheer thought of how overwhelming the kind of bond he spoke about could be. "I'm just not ready for that... yet."

A soft smile. "No need to be sorry." His lips grazed the line of her jaw to the tip of her chin, then wander up to her lips. "What you give me now is already more than any mortal man could ever hope for. I'm not complaining," he whispered, indulging in a tender kiss.

He had learned to be patient with her, and he was willing to wait as long as it would take for her to trust him enough to take the step and truly bond. He knew she didn't take it lightly; neither did he. But the desire to achieve that depth of connection with her burned ever brighter within him.

=/\=

"_Arhea_." Greco's voice came from her commbadge.

A sigh. She slipped out of Timir's embrace and off his lap. Picking up her black shirt, she tapped the badge attached to it, "Yes, Commodore?"

"_Don't forget, we have a meeting with Timir and Temba at 1600 hours_," Greco reminded.

"I know, Commodore," she replied with unhidden exasperation. "I have not forgotten. I've just been..." she cast her eyes at Timir, "...passing time."

'Passing time?' Timir mouthed, mocking a scolding look.

She bit back a chuckle and put a finger on her lips to keep him silent. "I will be there, sir," she assured her mentor.

"_Good. It's very important. I'll see you soon. Greco out_."

The comm shut off. Arhea burst out laughing. She threw her shirt at Timir. "What did you want me to tell him?" she sputtered, pouncing on him, "That I was involved in an aggressive transaction with one of his operatives at close quarters?"

Timir chuckled and deflected her playful attack, flipping her onto the couch cushions and pinning her down. "That would have been an interesting way to put it." A puckish grin stayed on is face as he looked down at her. "You don't think he knows what we've been up to?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "He hasn't given any indication that he knows."

"Well," his eyes sparkled with mischief, "suppose that'll change if he ever surprises us in a... compromising position."

"Speaking of..." Arhea snickered. Her eyes shifted to the door, then back to Timir.

"Oh." A wry grin. He turned over his shoulder, glancing at the door, then met her eyes again. "I'm compromised, I'd say."

"Yes." She could hardly contain the laugh. "I'm not sure how keen he'd be on getting a full view of your derrière."

"I had hope you'd locked the door."

"I... might have forgotten," she blinked, "in the heat of the moment..."

Timir guffawed at her awkward expression. The whole thought was just hilarious to him, especially considering anyone could have just walked in on more than him flashing his broad side some twenty minutes earlier.

"We need to get dressed." Arhea's reminder halted his laughter.

He grimaced. A grunt. "You have a way of stating the inevitable at the worst times," he sighed. Leaning down, he stole a quick kiss. "I'll relent," he smirked, "but only under protest."

=/\=

Timir watched her collect her clothing and put it on. "Since you insist on being serious, I must ask," he fastened his pants, "How committed are you to this relationship? To me?"

Arhea stopped in her tracks and quirked a brow, looking at him dumbfounded. "That's kind of a strange question, don't you think? Considering..."

"Considering that you're sleeping with me?" He shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "Not really. Were you committed to every other guy that you had sex with before?"

Her eyes darkened. She tossed his shirt to him. "If this is about D'Nal," she spouted.

"No. Not at all." Timir slipped the shirt on and stood. "This is about me and you." He snatched her hand and pulled her into his arms. His gaze was soft, so was his voice, "I just want to make sure we're on the same page. This is a serious matter to me."

"As it is to me," she assured, gazing up at him. "There were... a few other men in the past. Not many. Never anyone like you."

He nodded. "The past is the past, Arhea. I'm not worried about the past," he met her gaze with sincerity, "I just want to be certain we're both committed to the future... _our_ future."

"Of course." She cocked her head ever so slightly, looking at him with a little puzzlement. "What about you? Don't tell me you never had a relationship before."

He held her gaze.

"A fling?" She was actually quite curious now.

A bashful chuckle. His arms dropped to his sides. "Well..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "One."

"One?"

"Hm. Yea..." He shifted, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. "I found out really quick that my physiology doesn't allow me to become a... player."

"You didn't know?" Her eyes widened.

"Not before then. No," he replied with a rueful grin. "I wasn't raised among my... species." He shrugged. "Understanding comes swiftly, though, when you're thrown off an outpost for 'stalking' somebody."

"Elements..." She gave him a pitying look.

"It was a long time ago," he waved it off, "I was barely twenty... just a kid..."

She nodded. Silence fell over the room. They both busied themselves with getting finished dressing. She glanced at him a couple of times, unsure what else to say. He really didn't seem to want to talk about that outpost incident, and she hadn't actually intended to push the subject that far.

"It is 1550 hours," the computer reported, breaking the silence, "You are scheduled to attend a meeting with Commodore Greco in ten minutes."

"Heh. Looks like I didn't forget to set up an alert message," Arhea remarked with a smirk. She finished pulling on her boots and stood up. "Ready?"

Timir nodded. "Ready."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

_Meanwhile in the Talvath System..._

"Orrha Terrh, forgive my intrusion, rekkhai."

Terrh ch'Vaeridh's eyes lifted off the data he was studying. His two-toned orbs met the hazel eyes of the man before him with indifference. "What it is, Amtor?"

The Engineer wrung his hands anxiously. Despite the good news he was heralding, being in the presence of the high-ranking Tal'Shiar office always made him extra nervous. Perhaps it was all the tales he had heard about this man, more so than what he'd observed with his own eyes.

"I've come to report that the upgrades to the existing weapons system have been completed, rekkhai," the slightest quiver was swinging in his voice, "and that we're ready to receive and store the additional torpedoes."

"You're ahead of schedule," Terrh rumbled. If there was any satisfaction within him connected to that fact, it wasn't ascertainable in his voice or expression.

"Ie, rekkhai." Amtor, on the other hand, couldn't keep the pride he felt about this accomplishment from showing. He only partially managed to suppress a smile. "We'll need your authorization to begin the transfer of the torpedoes from the surface."

"Of course."

"Thank you, rekkhai." The Engineer bowed several times, then turned and rushed off. He had no need to witness Terrh giving the actually orders. He took the man by his word.

=/\=

"He's moving away from the command center," Kazra Rhaquiel reported, cradling a bluish crystal in his hands. "He just talked to the Director."

"Terrh..." Michaev's jaw clenched subtly.

Kazra's eyes opened. He glanced at the Admiral. "Amtor holds that _rat_ in great honor," he noted, "and at the same time is terrified of him..."

"Rat?" Meili Monoh's flippant question interrupted Agent Succuba's declarations. "Oh... you mean the Rommie." She grinned impishly, propping her feet up on the edge of her console. "I thought you were talking about yourself."

"QT," Michaev gave her a scolding look, "if you're bored you can always make yourself useful by going to the mess and fixing us something to eat."

The Augment grimaced. "_My_ suggestion for reconnaissance would have been much more entertaining," she sulked. She sunk deeper into the chair and closed her eyes. "Wake me up when this snore fest is over."

Michaev exhaled slowly. He turned his attention back to Kazra, who once again had his eyes closed, not for sleeping though, but to help him concentrate. "Continue."

"That was the control center," Succuba informed, "where Terrh is located. Upper level, mid section, most aft platform."

"You got that, Micro?" Michaev glanced over his shoulder.

Waridi nodded. "Seems to confirm the data we have on standard layouts, thus far. Including the location of the torpedo tubes." The Arkenite looked over the schematics before him. "I have added the additional launchers as well, sir."

"Hopefully, they won't store the extra torpedoes all too far from there," Zlar piped in.

"They shouldn't," Michaev looked to the Andorian, "wouldn't make any sense."

"Since when do Roms make sense?" Zlar smirked.

"I've given him a subtle telepathic suggestion to go see the lead Engineer," Kazra remarked. His eyes fluttered open again, meeting with Michaev's gaze. "Amtor was thinking earlier how he wished he could be involved in setting up the thalaron weapon," he shrugged, "so I figured we might have a fair shot finding out where the generator is located if I can get him to go see the lead Engineer."

"Good idea," the Admiral nodded. "We need to find out how exactly Terrh plans on distributing the radiation, too."

"Patience, sir," Kazra smiled evilly, "I'll get to those answers, one way or another."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"What do you mean, you still need Timir to project Mirok? You've got _him_ now," Arhea gestured to Temba, her temper rising as she glared at Commodore Greco, "and he's been around Mirok. He should know how he talked and walked and all that."

"You heard your brother," Timir reminded, "Temba doesn't speak Rihannsu the way I do. Mirok spoke with a subtle regional dialect."

"Whose side are you on?" She shot him a sharp look. "I'm trying to help you out here."

"But I'm not opposed to doing what the Commodore asks," he countered, "and I don't need you to speak for me." He cringed, seeing the rage flash up in her eyes. It wasn't his intention to undermine her well-meant defense, but he truly didn't need it. "We've gone through great lengths to create a projection, might as well use it," he reasoned.

"Exactly," Greco agreed. "Besides, I have my reasons, Arhea. I've thought it all out. Don't insult me by assuming I'm approaching this matter haphazardly."

She simply glowered at them.

The Commodore sighed. "I see I will have to be more convincing." He motioned to Temba and Timir, "Give us your versions of Mirok please, gentlemen."

While the Chameloid morphed into the Romulan spy, Timir's psychoprojective hologram fizzled into existence beside its twin. The two fakes looked at Arhea.

"Tell me what you see," Greco invited.

She crossed her arms, still sulking. "I see two bastards," she grumbled.

"And they'd both pass as Mirok?"

"I suppose."

"Even at close inspection?" Greco wasn't about to resign so easily.

Arhea let out an exasperated sigh, but finally turned to scrutinize the fakes. "Temba's version doesn't have the right eye color," she noted, "D'Nal's eyes were gray, like the ones on Timir's projection."

"Uh huh." Greco nodded. "So, you see?"

"Yeah. I see Temba needs to change them," she exhorted.

"I can't," the Chameloid answered. "It's the only thing I cannot change on my body, my eyes."

Arhea wrinkled her nose. "I see."

"And _I_ can't take a chance on a dead giveaway like that," Greco said, meeting her eyes. "Besides, I need Temba to play that shuttle pilot again, Arrain R'Kal. He's an unknown to Michaev. Temba was able to pass as a Romulan with your brother, he'll pass with Michaev."

"You're planning on using that derelict shuttle?" The corner of her brow rose.

"Aye," The Commodore leaned back in his chair, "we took it aboard with Hvaid's permission. Armello and Edmundson are working on it right now. I've asked them to get it space worthy again without fixing too much on it."

"I'll have to be on that shuttle, too, Commodore," Timir pointed out, "I need to be close to my projection, or I can't guarantee that I'll be able to maintain its stability."

"I understand," Greco nodded, turning to the Halanan, "that will actually be essential to making this ruse work. Assuming that Michaev will have the shuttle scanned for lifeforms, his sensors need to pick up two occupants. Your projection only reads as energy. But _you_ will read as a lifeform." He leaned forward onto the edge of the table. "And if Armello can manage to create a little interference that looks like it comes from the damage the shuttle received, then Michaev won't be able to pinpoint what species the lifeforms are." A wide grin spread on his face.

"When do we have to launch the craft?" Temba asked. "We'd have to do it before we get into sensor range of Michaev's ship, right?"

"Ah, yes. Good question." Greco rose and activated the wall monitor. "Let me educate you a little bit about our destination..."

=/\=

"What do you make of this?" First Lt. Christof Armello pointed to a long scratch that ran over the corner of one of the system displays and partially down the front of the console.

"How am I suppose to know," Lt. Cmdr. Lyle Edmundson shrugged, "I'm not the Chief Engineer, I'm just the guy who shoots things." A sly grin spread on his lips.

"Well, it looks like it could have been made by a weapon, _weapon master_," Armello retorted, turning to the Security/Tactical Chief, a little perturbed. When he saw the grin on Edmundson's face, he rolled his eyes. "Damn you, Lyle."

Edmundson chuckled. "It's fun to get a rise out of you. Must be that Italian temperament." He stepped closer and ran his finger over the length of the scratch. "Hmm... could be from a dagger. But I didn't think neither of the two guys had something like that in their possession." He tapped his chin. "Then again..."

"What?" Armello looked at the older officer in expectation.

Lyle wagged his head. "Just something that Romulan doctor had said about Mirok's wounds," he muttered in thought, "multiple cuts... apparently from daggers."

"You think he fought a Klingon that had followed him into the shuttle?"

"I dunno." Edmundson scratched his head. "I thought that changeling operative had said he was already in the shuttle when Mirok arrived." He shrugged.

"There are a few other scratches over there, too," Christof pointed to another console across the main cabin, "but they're much smaller. This is the biggest one."

Edmundson nodded and slapped a hand on Armello's shoulder. "Make sure you put it in the report for Greco. I'm sure he'll follow up on it... or ask me to," he sighed, "if he has questions about it."

"Alright." The Chief Engineer gathered his tools and exited the Romulan craft. "Strange power configurations, I'll tell you that." He stopped outside and waited for Edmundson to follow.

"What do you expect from Rommies." Lyle stepped out of the shuttle with a broad grin. "I'm glad you're the mechanic around here. I don't think I could have made heads and tails of it."

Armello chuckled, walking alongside Edmundson through the shuttle bay. "It wasn't all that hard actually. The power was completely drained from the main systems, distribution had failed. All I had to do was restore the flow. Took a little while, but I managed. Strange thing was, there seemed to be no reason for the failure. At least, not from what I could see." He grimaced, "But what do I really know about Romulan shuttles."

"Would have been great if Riov Hvaid and his ship could have stayed around a little longer, eh?" Lyle Edmundson posed, "Maybe they could have educated you on their confounded contraptions a bit."

"That could have been interesting. Never worked with Romulans before," Armello laughed as the shuttle bay doors opened and ushered the men out into the main corridor. He veered to the left and waved at Edmundson, "I'll catch you later, Chief. Need to deliver my report."

* * *

_Orrha = Director_

_Rekkhai = Sir_

_Ie = Yes_

_Arrain = Centurion (ST rank equivalent: Lieutenant)_


	10. Chapter 9: Revelations

Chapter 9: "Revelations"

=/\= - =/\=

Arhea stayed behind as Timir and Temba left the briefing room. Her gaze was dismal when she addressed the Commodore, "How can you trust that guy? He can change into anything and just vanish, or do who knows what."

"I have enough control of him," he deflected her accusation, "Just like I used to have of Timir."

"That chip..." She studied Greco. "He's got one of those, too." Sudden understanding lit up her eyes, "It was more than just a way to identify him as a prisoner, wasn't it?"

"I would ensure compliance if need be," he remarked flatly, stacking the PADDs in front of him.

"It must be horrible for you to have realized you can't hold that over Timir's head any more," there was acid in her voice when she spoke, "I always thought you were different, Tony."

"Starflee Command demanded them to be implanted," he replied in an even tone, "There weren't meant to be removed."

"Too bad for SFC that it shorted out when it triggered that trap door on Nelvara and sent me and him down into the underground tunnels," she huffed with cynicism. "He saved my life down there, you know. He didn't have to."

"I had asked him to keep you safe." Greco's blue eyes met her angry gaze. His answer carried an edge of annoyance in it. Why was she being so appalled by this now?

"Nevertheless, who could have faulted him for leaving me behind when chased by those damn raptors?" she countered brusquely.

"He went beyond his mandate..." The Commodore nodded. "I figured he felt some loyalty to me. You should be glad about it."

She glowered, "You better hope he does. Even without the chip."

"You shouldn't have had it removed." He stood and gathered the PADDs into his hands. His action meant to signal he wanted the matter closed. There was really no reason to be splitting hairs over it any more. What was done, was done.

"I didn't make that decision. I was unconscious in sickbay, after I almost bled to death," Arhea wasn't so ready to drop the issue, "One of the doctors on the _Excelsior_ made that decision." She rose from her seat as well, but much more abruptly. "His report stated that the chip was ruined, and the flesh around it charred. He felt it best to remove the device and fix the damage done to the tissue."

Commodore Greco sighed, slowly rounding the table toward the exit. "Doctor Karpenko might have been able to activate some of the chip's functions again," he brought to her attention, "_if _it had been left in. It had been constructed to not be easily destroyed."

"Lev knows a lot about those kind of things, doesn't he?" She narrowed her eyes, watching him traverse the room.

"He's an expert." He stopped, turning to look at her. "How do you think we were able to link you and your clone?"

"So now you hold _me_ in your control, too, don't you?" She glared at him.

"What?" Greco almost dropped the PADDs, genuine shock plastered on his face.

"You know what I mean. Don't look at me so shocked." Her calloused demeanor faltered ever so slightly at his astonishment, but she was still upset. "You know exactly how that thing in my head works," she tapped a finger against her temple, "That it's set up to self-destruct once its data is downloaded. And that gives _you_ an edge on me."

"I would never," he uttered, aghast.

"You would with your operatives..."

"_They_ are Starfleet operatives, not mine," he declared, exasperation swinging in his voice, "and Starfleet didn't even put that thing in your head." He set the PADDs on the table with a sigh. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. You... you're like a daughter to me, Arhea. I care about you. I trust you," he pledged, pain displaying in his eyes, "but you sure sound like you don't trust me any more. Have I done anything to deserve your distrust?"

"I'm sorry." She averted her eyes, regretting that she obviously hurt his feelings. Her jaw tightened. "It's just... the fact that D'Nal had no qualms..."

"I'm not him, Arhea." Greco moved to her side, laying a hand on her shoulder. He took a deep breath to collect himself. His tone was kindly now, "How could you even compare me to him?"

"I'm sorry... I really am." She hung her head. "That whole matter just has me rattled..."

=/\=

"Problems?"

"Elements!" Arhea jumped to the side, barely stifling a louder shriek. She slapped Timir on the arm. "You startled me."

"Sorry," he chuckled, "didn't mean to. Was just waiting for you."

"Yeah, around a corner." She shook her head and stepped into the turbolift.

He entered behind her. "If you hadn't been so deep in thought, you'd have seen me," he remarked, leaning against the wall and studying her for a moment. "So... what's up?"

"Tony wants me to help you sharpen your hand-to-hand combat skills," she replied, foregoing the other subject the Commodore and her had discussed.

Timir's brow shot up. "He thinks that's necessary?"

"He thinks it would be wise to make sure you're ready for anything," she stated matter-of-factly. "Computer, deck 5." Her gaze stayed on him, "He also wants us to go over possible scenarios, should your hologram have to talk to Michaev face-to-face, _and_ he wants to make sure you got Mirok's story memorized."

"Sounds reasonable," he smirked, a coy twinkle in his eyes, "and like a lot of fun."

"I hope you're taking this assignment more serious than you're letting on right now," she grumbled.

The lift halted. She was poised to rush out. He stepped in her way, looking down at her. "Of course I am," his gaze softened, "doesn't mean I can't enjoy the thought of spending time with you by orders of the Commodore." He winked.

She couldn't keep the smile from creeping up on her lips. Once again he had broken through that gruff exterior she had put up. Head wagging, she gently pushed him out of the way to exit. "You're something, you know that?"

"I do." He chuckled, falling in step with her in the corridor.

"We'll take care of those matters tomorrow," she informed him. "We'll have all day to prepare. Right now, I'm hungry... I want dinner."

=/\=

Dinner consisted of one of Arhea's favorite dishes, curry chicken. She had a fascination with Asian cuisine. A side-effect of living on Earth for fifteen year, she told herself, much like other Terran things she had found great interest in.

Most of dinner was spent with idle talk, until she pushed her almost empty plate away. Unable to shake the conversation with Greco about Timir's imprisonment from her thoughts, she finally asked, "So, how _did_ you come into Federation custody anyways?"

Timir arched a brow in surprise. Where was that coming from? He put his fork down and took a sip from his drink, before replying, "I thought you read my prison file from the chip?"

"It was falsified, wasn't it?" she inclined her head, quizzically, "To make you look like an escaped prisoner if anyone accessed it, right?"

"True." He nodded. "But some of it _was_ correct."

"Well," she leaned forward, looking at him expectantly, "care to tell me the whole truth?"

A nervous chuckle. "That's a tall order." He shifted on his seat. When she continued looking at him with that same anticipation, he complied, "I... took part in an ambush of a Federation convoy," he began, "We... we went to plunder their cargo, take anything we needed. Their reinforcements arrived sooner than we had expected..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

_Some fifteen years ago..._

Timir stared at the viewscreen as the heavily armed Starfleet escort ship came barreling down on them in rescue of the Federation convoy. The supply ship they had just seized would not stand a chance against the attacker, neither would any of the ships in the pirates' little fleet.

"Why didn't we detect it sooner?" Aakav, the man who had raised Timir for the past ten years, bellowed across the bridge. "Get our ships out of here NOW!"

Signaled to retreat, the handful of pirate vessels scrambled back toward the Neutral Zone. Kav's crew began fleeing from the bridge of the Federation supply ship to get back to their small craft docked in the shuttlebay and escape before the escort could arrive. They piled into the main turbolift.

Confused, and with heart pounding, Timir rushed along but stumbled over one of the bodies littering the bridge. For the first time since the hijacking had begun he actually took note of the carnage they had caused. Though, only for a second.

He scrambled up and leaped for the turbolift, only to find the doors had already sealed. His head snapped to the secondary lift, across the way. A split second thought. He darted for the door and jumped in. "Deck 6!"

His heart threatened to jump from his chest as it seemed to take an eternity to arrive on the designated level. Shooting out of the lift as soon as the door allowed him to pass, he ran down the corridor and burst into the shuttlebay.

Too late! Kav's ship was already taking off. Frantic, Timir waved his arms in the air, "WAIT!"

A multitude of transports lit up the shuttlebay in rapid succession. Dozens of armed Starfleet officers materialized around Timir, all aiming their weapons squarely at him. He froze. His gaze still hung on Aakav's small craft as it moved out into space. His heart sunk.

And in a sudden flash of phasers, the pirate ship exploded.

Timir's outcry echoed through the shuttlebay, "NOOOOOOO!"

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"I was a boy... barely fifteen," Timir finished his tale, a melancholy look in his eyes, "But my outright refusal to give away any information regarding the incident forced the judge to try me as an adult and give me a lengthy sentence."

Arhea had paid rapt attention during the whole story. Chin in her hand, she studied his expression intently, "Obviously you didn't serve that sentence."

"Not the full term, no." He held her gaze. It actually felt liberating to tell her all of this. "One day, some four years or so into my sentence, I was snatched from the prison facility. They told me because I had been an exemplary inmate and kept myself out of trouble, they were willing to cut me a deal." A light snort. "Later I found out it wasn't just because of my behavior, but also because of my abilities."

"And Tony?" she gently probed, "How does he fit in all of this?"

"He was in charge of the training I received prior to my 'release'." Timir finished his drink with a quick swig. "During those six months he treated me more like a son than a prisoner. I wasn't just an object to spy on the Romulans to him. He's always backed me up when it came to dealing with Command. I haven't forgotten that." A far off expression came to his eyes. "When he asked me to watch over you... through Andre Kosta," he looked back at her, more focused, "that day, after we had the conference with Admiral Sauer, I couldn't refuse." His hand reached for hers. "Besides, that assignment included having to be closer to you... something that was appealing to me already back then."

"I was going to ask if you simply had interest in me _because_ of your assignment." She glanced at his fingers stroking her hand.

"No. Definitely not," he softly squeezed her hand, "You had piqued my curiosity already before that." He rose from his chair, grabbing their plates. "Seemed like you always ended up in my quarters." A wink. He took the leftovers to be recycled.

"On business," she rebutted his subtle accusation and grabbed the utensils to put away.

"Mhmm." He passed by her on his way back to the table wearing a sheepish grin. "Keep telling yourself that." Fetching the glasses, he brought them to be recycled as well.

"It was," she protested mildly.

Timir bit back his amusement over her adamant denial, took her by the hand, and ushered her into the bedroom. "I didn't realize how _much_ I've come to like you until that day when I gave you the Tarkalean hawk." He drew her into his arms. "It was the first time I felt the urge to kiss you."

"I noticed."

"Yes. And I noticed how quickly you recoiled and jumped away," he teased.

"You know what the problem was back then." Arhea pushed him away with mock annoyance.

He let himself fall back onto the bed, lengthwise. A long sigh. "Unfortunately..."

She rounded the bed and climbed on it from the other end. Crawling up to his head, she sat back on her haunches and gazed down at his face, upside down.

He locked up into her green eyes, musing, "Have you thought about..."

"I don't want to talk about him," she cut him off, placing a soft kiss upon his forehead.

"Fair enough." A smile.

"I've got other things on my mind..." She kissed the tip of his nose.

His smile grew. "So do I..." He stretched up and seized her lips with an ardent kiss.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Lieutenant Armello got that shuttle up and running again," Anthony Greco informed as he leaned in the door frame to Temba's room, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Great," the Chameloid acknowledged, "means I need to go and familiarize myself with the configurations a bit more. I tell you, it wasn't easy to convince Mirok I was a Romulan pilot, with all the mistakes I made. Just glad he was already somewhat delirious."

"Armello said the power flow to the systems had simply been cut off," the Commodore noted, not changing his stance.

"You mean_ I _could have cause the malfunction?" Temba chuckled, slapping his hand to his forehead, "What a blunder."

"That... could be an explanation..."

The operative gestured to the dining table. "Would you like to come in, Commodore, and have a drink?"

"No drink." Greco shook his head, but stepped in to let the door shut. "I was just on my way to my own quarters for some much needed sleep. I've been up way too long. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Suit it yourself." Temba ordered a drink from the replicator.

Greco stepped up to a chair and laid his hands on its back. "There was also mention in the Chief's report of several scratches on some of the consoles in the main cabin of the shuttle, possibly made by daggers." He watched the Chameloid intently. "I thought you said Mirok fought with the Klingons _before_ he got to the craft?"

"I saw them, too." Temba turned and put the drink to his mouth for a tentative sip. "Hm," a grimace, "hot." He walked to the table. "The scratches, I mean." He set the cup down and inclined his head. "Hmmm. I'm not sure where Mirok got that shuttle from, but it didn't look brand new to me. Those scratches could have been there from its previous owner." He shrugged. Meeting the Commodore's eyes, "You sure you don't want a drink, sir?"

"I'm quite alright." Greco raised a hand to negate the offer once more. "And, of course, you're right. That craft probably has seen combat before. It looks like an older model." A curt nod, "It still should serve our purpose well enough with power restored and all systems operational now." He stifled a yawn. "I suppose I really should go refuel, myself," he waved and turned to the door, "good night. Get rested. We've got much to do tomorrow."


	11. Chapter 10: Preparations

Chapter 10: "Preparations"

=/\= - =/\=

She watched him move the medical scanner to and fro around her head. His face frozen in a stoic mask, though his eyes portrayed concern.

Doctor Lev Karpenko reattached the small scanning device to the medical tricorder and met her intense gaze, "Everything checks out fine, Arhea."

"Then why do your eyes show concern?" Her voice was calmer than she felt inside.

"I'm vondering vhy you're here," a trace of Russian accent came to the fore, "Vhy have me run these scans again?"

"Are you really surprised?" she asked a little more testy. "Oh, I don't know, I only had some rogue Tal'Shiar agent force me into compliance and leave my ship," she huffed, "like I had some sort of homing beacon in my head."

"It vas your clone..."

"Same thing!" she cut him off. "If you hadn't had me strapped down on a bio bed, I would have gone, too, wouldn't I?"

Lev laid the tricorder down on a tray and nodded. "True."

"And how did he do it?" Her nostrils were flaring slightly. "How did he coerce me into abandoning my ship?"

"It vas a... series of high frequency sounds," Lev replied with an even tone, still not sure exactly where she was going with this.

"And how easily could anyone reproduce them?"

"Not very likely," he assured, "it vas a highly complex combination."

"Which _you_ recorded, didn't you?" Arhea crossed her arms.

The Doc cocked his head, suddenly beginning to understand. "Is this vhat you're vorried about? That ve'd be trying to use vhat ve know to coerce you?" He shook his head when she simply stared back at him. "Only Greco has access to vhat vas recorded, and you know he von't do anything to harm you. Anything."

A scowl. She didn't look completely convinced. It wasn't necessarily Tony she was worried about. What if someone else got their hands on the information? "What about the data download?" she continued in an accusatory tone, "You know how that works, too, don't you?"

"It's all in a secure place," Karpenko assured once again.

"When did you realize a download would trigger a self-destruct of the chip?" she pressed.

Lev sighed. "I knew from the start. How do you think I copied the chip so accurately, aside from its contents?"

"I don't even want to know how you got the kind of detailed scans to do that sort of thing," she grumbled. The look on his face told her it truly was better if she didn't ask. She let out an exasperated sigh. "You still don't understand why I'm so worried about this, Lev? Seriously?" Uncrossing her arms, she slapped her hands onto her thighs and stared down at her feet dangling off the bio bed. "I only got a ticking time bomb in my head that I've never been told about," she muttered, "and all I can think is... why?"

"You'd have to ask the Tal'Shiar about that," the Doc noted flatly.

Arhea's head snapped up. A flash of anger darkened her green eyes. "Thank you, for stating the obvious!" She jumped off the bed. "That's _not_ what I came here for!"

He halted her movement to the door, grabbing her by the arm. "Arhea," his eyes met hers as her head spun around, "vhy _did_ you come here then?"

=/\=

Lev Karpenko set a cup of coffee and a fluffy croissant with bacon and egg in front of her. "Eat," he ordered, "I know you hadn't had any breakfast yet."

"Mind reader, too, now?" she grumbled under her breath, inspecting the croissant and taking a sip of the coffee. "I'd much rather have a glass of your sco..." The word trailed off. She wrinkled her nose as he sat down with his own meal, the pungent odor of sulfur and amonia assaulting her olfactory senses. "What is _that_?"

"Congee vith century eggs," he replied with a smile, sitting down at the table.

"They do look like they're a century old," she confessed with disgust, eying the almost black looking eggs.

"It's a quite interesting dish from Earth's China region," he educated her, "They vrap the eggs in a mixture of clay, salt, ash, lime, and rice for several veeks. It gives them that greenish-black color and turns them sort of creamy and gelatinous." He scooped up a spoonful of the porridge-like congee with a piece of egg. His facial expression portrayed utter delight, "Hmm... very intriguing."

She shuddered. "I love Asian food, but _that_," she grimaced, "is disgusting. I couldn't get that past my nose."

A glance up at her still repulsed expression, "You should live a little, Arhea. There are many delicacies to be tried, on Earth alone." He smiled jovially. "Yesterday I had an omelet vith huitlacoche," he informed, putting another spoonful of food in his mouth. "For lack of a better term, huitlachoche is diseased corn, overgrown vith fungus. It gives it sort of a... mushroomy flavor," he explained.

"I'll pass." She turned to her 'normal' food and took a few bites, then looked back at the Doc. Picking up the subject that had actually brought them to the table, "So... you think you could do it?"

"Remove the chip?" Lev paused, looking back at her thoughtfully. "Hmm... I don't know. It's tricky. I'd have to run more extensive scans," he answered honestly, "Never know... if they equipped it vith a self-destruct upon download, they might have done the same to prevent removal." He shrugged. "You really vant it gone that badly?"

"Would you like a time bomb in your head?" she countered indignantly.

"No von does," he concurred.

"It was suppose to have been a way to mask my ancestry from scanners, nothing more," she lamented, "I'm not fond of the idea that someone could find out about what data it holds, and then figure out a way to control me or even kill me." She exhaled forcefully, pushing the half-eaten croissant to the side. A plea in her eyes, "Lev, if you can do it..."

"...I vill," he finished her sentence with sincerity. "But you must know this is risky business, Arhea. I'm not taking your request lightly."

"Of course. I would never assume you'd do."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Move _with_ your opponent, don't resist," she lectured, holding out her hand as she stood over him, "let his momentum do the work for you."

Timir grabbed the offered hand and let her help him back up. He exhaled and wiped the sweat off his brow. "You could program my opponents to be a little easier to defeat, you know," he grumbled.

Arhea's face was dead serious. "Considering that Michaev and his cohorts are highly trained SFI officers, I wouldn't do you a favor with taking it easy," she noted sternly. Then a little twinkle lit up her eyes, "Besides, it's more fun this way." She turned away to hide the outright grin forming on her lips.

"I saw that," he pointed a finger at her, "You're just trying to get me back for passing the 'acting like Mirok' test with flying colors."

She laughed. "Computer, start exercise from the beginning." She took up a defensive stance as the holography opponent materialized, hoping to teach by example once more. "Ground yourself, but keep fluid in movement."

He watched as she took the holographic man down without much effort. A master of Rihannsu martial arts, Arhea had developed her own special method, mixing a more sinuous form of Ch'Vashrek with a true version of Llaekh-ae'rl. Both focused on reacting to an attack rather than initiating combat, though the former used more fluitic and graceful movements and the latter a rooting to the ground. Timir knew he'd be out of his league facing her, but he appreciated that she wanted to teach him at least some moves to improve his chances should he find himself in hand-to-hand combat with one of Michaev's agents. He much rather hoped that he'd be able to make use of opportunities to escape. That was his specialty, finding a way to get out of a tricky spot.

"Ok, you're turn again," she gestured as the next hologram appeared, "Watch him, be him, anticipate his next move."

"Easier said," Timir ducked, "than done," he spun, "my dear..." He grabbed the man's arm as he launched another attack, and tried to topple him. But instead, he ended up on his back again. "Ugh," he peered up at her, "I stink at this."

"Practice makes perfect." She smiled, offering a hand again.

Once more, he took the hand, let her help him up, and then pulled her into his arms. He smiled down at her. "I'll just have to rely on my charm to keep me out of situations where I might have to do combat at close quarters."

A pause. "I think we need to step up the exercise," she replied with a dead pan look.

His momentary gape changed into an amused chuckle. "Very funny." His voice took on that soft and sensual tone that gave her goosebumps every time, "Do I at least get to take a break?"

She bit her lip, fighting the urge to want to give in to him. Ok, so maybe he had his charm. Though, she doubted it would work with his enemies. "No," she forced herself out of his embrace, plastering a serious look on her face, "not yet. Not until you can at least take down _one_ opponent."

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Then we might be here all day."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Commodore." First Lieutenant Syn Carax stepped into the Captain's ready room and stood at attention.

Anthony Greco was leaning with one arm against the bulkhead framing his office's window, gazing out into space. He turned over his shoulder. "Yes, Lieutenant," he stepped back and motioned to his desk, "have a seat."

For a fraction of a second the Bolian officer looked surprised, but then she took him up on the offer and sat. "I hope this is not about my lack of speed concerning the masking of life signs for the Romulan shuttle," she began before Greco could finish sitting down himself, "I must apologize, but an exact configuration to create an interference that would seem natural enough to not make anyone suspicious was not easy to achieve, considering we are dealing with a completely foreign..."

"Yes, yes," Greco waved his hand in dismissal, "it's quite alright. I understand the intricacies involved in achieving such a feat, and I'm glad you actually came up with a solution." He made himself comfortable in his chair. "I know you're scheduled to meet with Lieutenant Armello shortly, and I certainly don't want to hold you up too long."

"Oh." Carax looked puzzled. "Then... may I asked, why am I here?"

The Commodore let out an audible sigh. He folded his hands on the desk, a slight grimace on his lips, "There's a matter of investigation I'd like you to take up for me." He met Carax's intently focused gaze. "An investigation that I would like to have conducted covertly," he explained, adding, "It's a scientific investigation. A personal curiosity."

"One of some significance apparently," she noted, "considering you wish to keep it quiet."

"It could be," he admitted. "But at the same time, if it turns out to be nothing, I don't want to have caused an issue over the matter. Do we understand each other?"

"Of course, sir," the Bolian acknowledged with a nod.

"Lieutenant Armello had reported unusual scratches on some of the shuttle's consoles," Greco came to the point, "I'd like you to take thorough... but covert... scans and determine what could have caused them. Then report your analysis to me."

"I will do my best, sir."

"I know." He smiled. "You're dismissed, Lieutenant."

Anthony watched the lanky officer get up and leave the room. He leaned back in his chair, relaxing just a little. For whatever reason, the matter of the strange scratches had not left his mind all night and all morning. It just wasn't setting right with him. He wasn't sure what exactly bugged him about it, but it did, and he needed clarity.

=/\=

Temba glanced at the Chief Engineer from the corner of his eye for the umpteenth time. It made him uncomfortable having the Starfleet officer hanging around the main cabin of the Romulan shuttle for most of the time he had been in there. He had thought Armello was done with whatever repairs he needed to do to make the damaged shuttle space worthy again. Why was the man still here?

The Chameloid wondered but didn't ask. He figured it could be seen as suspicious on his part to question the presence of an Engineer, whilst there might still be some adjustments to make. After all, he was suppose to welcome the help. With grudging acceptance of his lot, he turned his full attention to studying the layout of the console once again.

"I admire your ability to pilot this thing," Christof Armello leaned against the console to Temba's side, "I can barely make heads and tails of these readings with the help of a translation program. You must have spent a lot of time with Romulans."

"It's been a few years," Temba replied cautiously. He swiveled his pilot seat to face Armello. "If you need any help, just ask."

"That's nice of you," the Engineered casually twirled a tool in his hands, "but I'm almost done." Noting the Chameloid's quizzical expression, he added, "I'm just waiting for Lieutenant Carax, so we can set up a way to mask your identities from sensors. She'll be here any moment."

"I hope it'll work. I'm not sure how much more of a beating this old craft can take should we come under attack," Temba groaned.

"I'm sorry," Armello looked genuinely apologetic, "but the Commodore didn't want me to make big changes. With the power back up to all systems, your shields should be at their max... whatever that is for this sh..."

"I'm here." Syn Carax burst into the shuttle in a rush. She met Armello's eyes, "Sorry about that, Chief. I was held up."

"It's alright, Lieutenant," the Engineer smiled kindly, "Gave me some time to chat with our resident shapeshifter." He gave a wink to Temba. "Let me show you where you can plug in," he pointed the Bolian to an open panel toward the rear of the cabin, ushering her in the direction, "but be careful what you touch. The circuitry is a little confusing. I zapped myself early," he chuckled, "I wouldn't recommend it."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

_Some 18 hours away in the Talvath system..._

"Patience always pays off, as they say." Admiral Boris Michaev sat down at the head of the small conference table wearing a self-assured smile. "It took a little inventiveness, but Sucuba got us the data we needed." He nodded to Waridi, "Micro, the layout."

"Yes, sir." The Arkenite agent tapped a few buttons and brought up a 3D-holographic image of the Romulan mining vessel, hanging over the center of the table. He pointed out the highlighted areas, "This is where the control center is located," he gestured, "and down here is the Engineering section, where they also installed the thalaron generator. Main propulsion control would be here, as well as controlling the deployment of the thalaron weapon."

"I don't get why they just didn't route that all to the upper level control center," Zlar confessed his confusion. "Seems backwards."

"It has to do with the actual implementation of the thalaron weapon," Kazra responded.

"Right," Waridi nodded, "in order to get maximum yield in spreading the radiation, the collection spikes of the ship have to be unfolded."

"Huh?" Meili blinked.

"The spikes of the ship are designed to catch any small space rocks and dust in orbit of a planet for processing," the Arkenite explained patiently, "They can also be unfolded, or spread like... flower petals, to take in larger space rocks. In case they are mining in an asteroid belt or the like." He pointed to the Engineering section on the hologram, "The mechanism and its control are located down here as well. It makes sense to keep the main controls close to the generator down there, too, since the release of the radiation through the open spikes will have to be closely monitored. There is, however, a secondary control up at the center just in case."

"Which means there are two main points of control for the ship functions and the weapons," Michaev piped in, "and we need to gain power over both of them. That's really the main point."

"So, we'll need two teams," Zlar mused.

"Exactly." The Admiral nodded. "I want you," he looked at Zlar, "and Succuba take over the Engineering section, and QT and I will handle usurping the main control center on the upper level." He motioned to Waridi, "Micro will stay on the _Umbra_ and provide any backup we might need."

"As long as I don't have to work with the tramp again," Kazra muttered, folding his hands behind his head as he leaned back in the chair, "I'm good."

"I won't shed any tears," Meili stuck her tongue out at him, "You'd only be so lucky to have me on your team."

"Just make sure you don't get the Admiral killed," Kazra retorted.

"She'll be my personal body guard," Michaev declared with a smile.

"At least somebody trusts me," Meili sulked.

"I trust your abilities, QT," Michaev corrected with a wink to his only female agent, "not necessarily you."

She gaped, then pushed her lip out in a pout.

The Admiral chuckled. "No offense, my dear." He looked around the table at each agent in turn, "Our plans need to be finalized today. So, are there any questions I can field?"

"Yes," Zlar leaned forward on the table, "I have a few..."

=/\=

"Erei'Riov Dalok, must I remind you who's in charge here?" Terrh's voice was far more acidic than his face. While still stoic, his eyes carried a meek, almost amiable, expression in them as he sat in the command chair, carefully polishing the blade of his sword. He had an affinity for bladed weapons. They were much more than symbols of authority to him.

"_I meant no disrespect, rekkhai_," Dalok's voice came back over the communication system. "_I was simply offering a different viewpoint_."

"If I want your opinion, I'd let you know," Terrh rumbled. "Do as I ordered."

"_Ie, rekkhai. Any specific sector you'd like us to investigate first?_"

"Anything along the asteroid field that lies between forty-five degrees of either side of the _Lagga_'s horizontal axis. If you don't find anything, you can widen out the search." Terrh halted his cleaning. "Begin at the farthest point we've already passed along the planet's orbital path, and move with it."

"_Very well, rekkhai_," Dalok replied submissively, "_Though,_ _it will take a while_."

"That's fine. I expect you to be thorough."

"_Ie. I shall not disappoint you_."

"I'm sure you won't." Terrh slid his sword back into its sheath, purposely allowing the metal to rub against the casing. The sound underscored the finality of his words. As the sword snapped into its place, "Report to me immediately if you find anything... anything at all."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

The screen of his personal computer flickered to life. Anthony Greco smiled at seeing the ebony face of the Romulan captain looking back at him. "Riov Hvaid. Nice to see you. I hope you have good news for me?"

Hvaid's dark green eyes carried a slight sparkle in them. "Somewhat," he replied. "I'm going to keep this brief, Commodore. I managed to garner the assistance of three more Rihannsu ships. They were closest in range and the only ones able to make the rendezvous with you in the time allotted."

"Four ships and us," Greco rubbed his goatee, "hmmm. I hope it's all we'll need."

"It's two scouts and a Valdore class warbird," the Romulan expounded. "I wish I could have managed to secure one of the Scimitar." He gave Tony a regretful shrug.

"I'm thankful for all that you could do," Greco said sincerely. "And you said you'll be able to make the rendezvous on time?"

"We're scheduled to arrive at the coordinates in approximately 13.5 hours," Hvaid acknowledged. "Will that be sufficient?"

"Most definitely," the Commodore smiled a the screen, "most definitely."

=/\=

Her eyes closed, she let out a sultry sigh at the sensation of his lips trailing over her skin, peppering tender kisses along her shoulder. He loosened his hold on her just a little, keeping her suspended in his embrace with only one arm, while the other came around to her back. His fingers trailed over the scarred spot just beneath her right shoulder.

"Funny," Timir whispered, "I don't recall seeing that scar when we were in the hot springs on S'aith." His fingertip circled over the almost perfect half-moon shape.

"You probably just didn't get a good look," Arhea muttered, not paying much attention to anything but the relaxed feeling his presence and the vibrations of the sonic shower evoked.

He nuzzled against the curve of her neck. "Hmmm... I don't know. It's pretty visible..."

A forced sigh. She turned in his arms, a slight frown on her face, "Must you insist on killing the moment?"

"I..." He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

She grimaced.

Timir let go of her and threw his hands up. "Hey, I didn't know this was a confidential matter of national proportions."

"It isn't," she huffed.

"Then why are you getting so uptight about it?"

Arhea crossed her arms and fell back against the shower wall. Another sigh. "I guess you haven't figured it out yet, hm?"

"That you can sometimes be a little bit... difficult," he ventured. "It can be cute... at times." A little impish smirk.

"No." She was rather serious now. "That it wasn't _me_ with you in those hot springs."

He stared for a moment. "You mean..."

"Yes," she nodded with great emphasis, "you were frolicking with my clone."

"Ohhh..." A glimmer flashed in his eyes. "_That_'s why you were much more spunky that day."

"Hey!" She punched him in the arm.

"And much less of a brute." He rubbed the hurt spot, faking a pained look.

"Then, maybe you should have stuck with her," she pouted.

Timir couldn't keep the laugh in any longer. "Aw," he pulled her back into his arms, "jealous of your own double?"

She cast her eyes up at him. "No."

"I have to admit, thinking about that now... it seems a little weird," he winked at her, "but at least I didn't sleep with her. _That_ would have been truly creepy."

"Can we change subjects?"

"Anything for you, my love." He placed a tender kiss on her mouth. "So, where did you get the scar from?"

"Ugh." Arhea sighed. "I meant a totally different subject."

He cocked his head, that easy smile of his on his lips.

"It's a... branding mark," she finally told.

"A branding mark?" He looked confused yet again. It seemed there was no end to the unexpected twists and turn of getting to know her better. One thing for sure, it definitely made life interesting.

She slipped from his grasp and exited the shower. A dismissive wave over her shoulder, "That's a tale for another day."

* * *

_Erei'Riov = Sub-Commander (SF equivalent rank: Lt. Cmdr.)_

_Ie = Yes_


	12. Chapter 11: Timing is Everything

Chapter 11: "Timing is Everything"

=/\= - =/\=

"All system are up and functioning," Temba's hands moved over the helm controls of the Romulan shuttle with ease, "we are ready for departure."

Timir watched the forcefield spring to life, and the shuttlebay's space door slid open. Despite his calm exterior his heartbeat fastened. This could quite easily be a mission with no return. While he had been in dangerous situations before, this time was different. He had never had someone he wanted to return to before.

"_You're cleared to launch_," the Ops Officer informed them.

"Hey, holoboy," Temba side-glanced at Timir, "don't make such a grim face." He smirked, "This is where the fun starts."

=/\=

Arhea stood back at the hangar's entrance doors and observed the shuttle lifting off the deck and slowly passing through the protective field. The feeling of dread hung ominously over her. It was hard to figure out exactly why.

Was it because she knew how dangerous this mission was? Was it because she didn't trust the shapeshifter? Or was it simply for the fact that her attachment to Timir had grown exponentially in the past few days, and she didn't want anything to happen to him?

As the craft broke out into open space, she dropped her mind shield for just a second and reached out to Timir with a tender mental touch. It conveyed her ardent desire to see him again.

=/\=

A wide smile spread on the Halanan's face as the shuttle distanced itself from the _Paladin_ and slowly picked up more speed. From this point on, the edge of the Talvath system, they could only travel at full impulse but that was still fast enough to rapidly draw away from the Hephaestus class starship.

"Finally," Temba noted, "you're shedding that gruesome frown. I was worried about having to put up with that for the next two hours."

"This isn't suppose to be a joy ride," Timir reminded, keeping the reason for his smile to himself. He glanced at the Chameloid, "And I'm not necessarily thrilled about sharing this cramped space with you. I'm accustomed to working alone."

"Get used to it, holoboy," Temba increased the shuttle's speed to full impulse, "at least for the next few hours. The better you do your job fooling Michaev, the quicker we can pass on the coordinates of his ship to Greco, and before you know it we'll be out of each others hair." He shot a little warning glare at his companion, "Right now we're suppose to be a team."

"Don't worry," Timir replied with a groan, "Greco made that all too clear." He shot his own glare back at the shapeshifter, "And don't call me holoboy."

Temba ignored the remark and tapped a few buttons. "ETA to the asteroid belt: eighty-seven minutes."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

She restlessly paced back and forth on the bridge. It had been fifteen minutes since the last audio communication from the shuttle had come in. They had reported visual on the asteroid field. '_By now, they should have reached its edge_,' she thought.

"Arhea," Greco's voice snapped her from her ruminations, "find yourself a chair and sit down, please," he admonished, "you're going to wear a rut into the deck plating."

Halting her stride, she turned to look at the Commodore. "I'm sorry," she grimaced slightly, "I just figured we would have heard from... my brother by now," she lied, unwilling to give away her anxious care for Timir. She wasn't sure if Greco was aware of their blossoming relationship, and right now was neither the time nor the place to bring it up.

"I'm certain he'll be here soon," he informed her with a reassuring smile.

"Sir," Lieutenant Marshall Bauer, the _Paladin_'s helmsman, spoke up, "we're gettin' communication from the shuttle again."

"Let's hear it, " Greco ordered.

A crackling and a feeping sound made everyone cringe. "_...ntering th...roid fiel... now..._" The message was broken up and barely audible. "_...oblem... wi... sign...ngth... in...feren... try...ompensa..._"

"Mister Bauer, what seems to be the problem?" The Commodore frowned.

"The signal's breakin' up, sir," Marshall tapped around on his console, "something's interferin' with the transmission."

"Man made?"

"Not that I can detect," Lyle Edmundson, the Tactical Chief, reported.

"It is quite possible that certain elements in the asteroids could be the issue," T'Luz, the XO, who was currently manning the Science station, ventured.

"Can we clear it up?" Greco inquired.

Arhea, who had been staring blankly into space from the time the transmission came over the speakers, lowered herself into an empty chair. She fought the urge to wring her hands. "What about the sensor probes inside the asteroid field? Could they cause such an interference?" She glanced to the Vulcan, then at the Tactical Chief.

T'Luz's eyes were intently focused at the display, but she didn't miss the question. "Possibly," she remarked, "but we do not know enough about their functions and placements to make a conclusive assumption."

"They _are_ dispersed throughout the field," Edmundson nodded, "but from what Temba reported, Mirok was able to communicate with Michaev without a problem. So I don't see why we should have any issues." He shrugged.

"Try to compensate somehow," Greco said calmly, keeping his concern to himself for the moment. "This is an inopportune time to lose connections."

"I am working on it, sir," T'Luz acknowledged. "Sensors do confirm, they have entered the asteroid field. We should get on the way soon, as well."

"As soon as..."

"Sir," Bauer interrupted, "incomin' comm from the _Greiirh_."

"On screen."

=/\=

Arhea exhaled the breath she'd unintentionally been holding at the sight of her brother's face on the viewscreen. Now that he was here, they could set phase two in motion.

"Riov Hvaid," Greco greeted the Romulan. "Glad you're here, we need to get moving."

"Is there a problem, Commodore?" Hvaid picked up on Greco's marginally concerned look.

"We've encountered slight difficulties in keeping our comm link clear to the shuttle," the Commodore admitted. "That's not a desirable situation, but perhaps with closing the distance it can be resolved."

"Of course," Hvaid nodded, "my apologies that we didn't get here sooner. I know timing is crucial."

"No apologies needed," Greco replied, "but we do need to get on our way now. The shuttle is about an hour and a half in front of us. That should give them plenty of time to contact Michaev and find out what we need to know, before we drop in."

"I do hope he doesn't get suspicious," the Romulan captain noted.

"I don't see why he would. At least not concerning the timing. Their arrival at Talvath two should be within the time limit allotted to get from Abraxas to out here for a small craft like that," Greco concluded, "After all, we did make up the lost time from them being stranded by taken the shuttle aboard the _Paladin_."

Hvaid nodded in agreement.

=/\=

"Wait." A female voice cut in. "The shuttle hailed from Abraxas?"

Hvaid turned his attention to the side, off screen. "Ie, Maenek."

A pale-skinned female with the typical Romulan haircut stepped into the viewer's field. "Arrain R'Kal reported that Mirok ch'Taris had received his injuries _before_ they boarded the shuttle."

"That's correct, Maenek."

"Nobody told me that they had boarded it on Abraxas," she insisted.

"Probably just an oversight," Hvaid suggested, "I don't think you needed that information to treat the patient, did you?"

"No, but..."

"But?"

Anthony Greco watched the exchange with intense curiosity, sliding to the edge of his seat. There was a strange feeling creeping up on him from the pit of his stomach as he studied the doctor's expression.

"But it can't be," Maenek Eviess stated decisively, "he couldn't have received those wounds that long ago. They weren't old enough. At the most, the injuries had happened a day prior... if that much."

"What?" Arhea interjected loudly, exchanging a confused glance with Greco.

=/\=

The ominous silence that fell over the _Paladin_'s bridge was annulled by the sound of the turbolift doors opening. Everyone's eyes shifted to Lieutenant Syn Carax stepping out.

She stopped, unsure why everyone was staring at her. "Do I have a second nose growing, or something?" She tried to break the tension. When nobody answered, she walked down to stand beside the Commodore's chair. "Sir, I've concluded my investigation."

Greco still looked befuddled.

"On the matter you had entrusted to me," the Bolian mentioned without saying what it was, since this was suppose to have been a covert analysis.

"Oh yes." The Commodore finally snapped out of it. "The scratches. What did you find out?"

"After thorough analysis, my conclusion is that the scratches were not made by a metallic object, which rules out daggers and items of that kind," Carax reported. "But they were made by a biological compound, similar to animal claws."

"Animal..." Greco's eyes widened.

"Is anybody getting a funky feeling here?" Lyle Edmundson piped in.

"The shapeshifter," Riov Hvaid verbalized everyone's thoughts.

"I told you that guy can't be trusted!" Arhea jumped out of her seat. "And now he's out there with Timir. We _have_ to warn him."

"Wait!" Greco shot out of his seat, too, and held his hands up. "Hold on a minute. Just because the scratches were made by animal claws, doesn't mean it was Temba. Maybe they were there before Mirok ever acquired that shuttle, just like Temba said," he tried to reason. "The only thing we know for sure is they weren't made by metal blades."

"Give me a break, Tony," Arhea spat, "you don't believe that nonsense any more than we do. Admit it! You think what we all think."

He mulled her words over for a moment instead of angrily spouting back. His brow tense, he looked at his bridge crew, then briefly at the two Romulans on the screen. "We need to get moving, now," he addressed Hvaid.

"Agreed," the Romulan nodded grimly, "lead the way."

=/\=

The view changed to a distant starfield surrounding the Talvath system. Some ninety minutes ahead lay the asteroid field and somewhere inside was a cloaked Romulan shuttle with a possible traitor aboard.

Greco plopped back down in his seat. "Lay in heading," he instructed the helm, "and take us to full impulse."

"Aye, sir."

"Commander T'Luz, have you cleared up the interference?" Greco didn't look back, his eyes stayed fixated on the screen as the _Paladin_ began moving.

"I believe I have done all I can," the XO replied somberly.

"Commander Edmundson, hail the shuttle."

"Hailing, sir."

Arhea finally lowered herself back onto her chair as well. This time, she didn't try to mask her anxiety. She nervously bit her lower lip, staring out into space up ahead as the moments of waiting for an answer trickled by all too slowly. The tension on the bridge was growing with every second.

Finally, Edmundson spoke the words nobody wanted to hear, "No reply, sir..."

* * *

_Ie = Yes_

_Maenek = Doctor_

_Arrain = Centurion (SF equivalent rank: Lieutenant)_


	13. Chapter 12: Change of Plans

Chapter 12: "Change of Plans"

=/\= - =/\=

"Damnit," Timir flinched as they barely dodged yet another hurtling space rock, "whose dumb idea was it again for us to fly through the middle of a densely populated asteroid belt?"

"Stop complaining," Temba shot back, his eyes never leaving the helm display. "It's the only way we can be sure to sneak up on our quarry without possible detection."

"We have a cloak," Timir countered, "we could have easily circumvented the field."

"First of all, you know that would have taken a whole lot longer at the speed we're traveling," the Chameloid operative spouted, "and second, how much do you want to bet me that the Roms would be able to pick up one of their own ships, even when cloaked? Especially an old shuttle like this one."

"Watch out!" the Halanan warned, pointing to the viewscreen. He ducked to the right, as if that would make any difference in avoiding the asteroid.

Temba maneuvered the shuttle around, jerking them up and to the right. It was another close call. "They're moving faster than anticipated," he groused.

"Shouldn't you've known that _before_ we entered this damn death trap?" Timir was more than just a little ticked.

"I pay attention to navigational sensors, nothing else," Temba pointed out, giving the Halanan a dark glare. "I'm not a science geek. Alerting us to this was the job of the officers on the _Paladin_, not mine!"

"Whoa! Keep your eyes on the screen!"

The mere second that the shapeshifter had taken his eyes off the helm display had been enough to get him out of his rhythm. When his attention returned to flying the craft, his eyes widened at seeing yet another rock on intercept course with them. He quickly initiated evasive actions.

The shuttle rocked slightly as they were drawn in by the asteroid's gravitational field and then pulled loose from it in the same instance. Temba cringed for just a moment.

"Damn, that was too close!" Timir griped, "I think we lost some paint."

"We did not!" Temba's temper was flaring back at his companion, "You would have heard..."

THUD!

The whole shuttle shook with the impact.

"Don't tell me _nothing_ just hit us." The Halanan glared at Temba angrily.

The Chameloid's finger flew over the controls. "Just a tiny piece of debris trailing along with that last asteroid," he notified Timir with obvious relief in his voice, "I don't think it caused more than just collateral damage."

"Tiny, eh?" Timir pointed to a display in front of himself. "Then why is this light flashing?"

"Hold on, I can't look right now." Temba wasn't about to look away again and chance a collision. "We're almost out of this."

=/\=

"There," Temba exhaled heavily a minute later as the shuttle burst out of the asteroid belt and into the inner section of the Talvath system, "we're out of the line of fire."

"Good." Timir let out a breath himself and momentarily relaxed back into his seat, until he saw the flashing light again. "So, what about this?"

The Chameloid leaned over. A long pause. A sigh. "Crap."

"What now?"

Temba tapped around on his console. "The cloaking shield is fluctuating," he noted with a grumble, "seems like that hit might have damaged something important after all."

"Oh, great," Timir groaned, "got any other good news?"

"Yes," Temba gave him a sarcastic glare, "we lost communications with the _Paladin_."

"Splendid," the Halanan sighed, "how're we suppose to transmit the _Umbra_'s location if we don't have a comm link with the _Paladin_?"

"_First_, we'd have to find the _Umbra_," Temba rebutted with exasperation.

"Well, get to it then." Timir crossed his arms over his chest. He closed his eyes, ignoring another one of Temba's glares, and mentally prepared himself to project the image of Mirok ch'Taris, once the shapeshifter would make contact with the _Umbra_.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Admiral," Zlar reported, "we're receiving a hail from Mirok." The Andorian turned to look over his shoulder at Michaev, "He's arrived."

"Bout damn time," Boris Michaev grumbled.

"He's requesting coordinates of our location, so he can beam over," Zlar added.

"Put him on scr..."

"Whoa. Not good."

Meili's statement made Micheav turn to his right. "Care to be a little more specific?"

"Looks like Mirok's shuttle took more damage than he thought when he fled Abraxas," the female agent noted. "The cloak's malfunctioning."

"On screen," Michaev order. His eyes shifted to the viewer, where a few fizzles in the darkness of space momentarily transformed into the outline of a Romulan shuttle, and then back to random sputters of energy. "Damn. Dead giveaway."

"I'm sure it won't take the Roms long to spot _that_," Meili cautioned.

"Damn right." The Admiral slid to the edge of his seat. "Micro, can you lock on to Mirok and beam him over here?"

"There are two lifesigns on board," Waridi responded. He glanced back to Michaev, "Want them both?"

"Probably his pilot," Meili ventured.

"Yes, grab them both, Micro," Michaev stood. "Beam them directly here to the bridge." He glanced to Zlar, "Ice... caution."

The Andorian stood abruptly and nodded at the Admiral. "Aye, sir."

Meili rose as well, immediately grabbing her phaser, and looked toward the back of the bridge.

"Succuba," Michaev addressed Kazra, who was standing by the Engineering panel at the rear of the _Umbra_'s command center. "Beam them over, now."

=/\=

Even Waridi turned with curious anticipation when the transporter beam shimmer and two men materialized, a Romulan and another one with pointed ears, though clearly not Romulan. Neither looked like Mirok ch'Taris, though. The Romulan Arrain's face was familiar, since the crew had seen him before in a previous communication, but who was the other guy?

The two men looked somewhat shocked at suddenly finding themselves on the _Umbra_. The transport had come without warning.

"It's the walking holoprojector!" Zlar blurted out when he recognized Timir.

The Halanan instinctively went for his sidearm. But before he could even aim it, the large Andorian had rushed at him and slapped the weapon from his hand.

Temba, in disguise as R'Kal, didn't even make an attempt to help Timir out, as he was quickly staring at the tip of the phaser Meili had trained on him. She wore a look of 'just try it, buddy' on her flawless face. He threw his hands up and shrugged at her.

Timir, on the other hand, didn't feel like giving up that easily. Besides, this was a chance to put the emergency training on self-defense Arhea had given him to work. Or at least try. Though, he wasn't thinking clear enough to even consider what he'd do if he could get away. Away to where?

He dodged Zlar's first swing at him and drove his own fist into the Andorian's abdomen. Big mistake. It was like hitting a parsteel panel. The upper cut that followed in response caught Timir's chin squarely. He staggered. Zlar didn't waste any time and finished by jabbing his fist straight up into Timir's face. It propelled the Halanan toward the back wall. He slammed into it, his eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the floor.

"You fight like a girl." Zlar grabbed the front of the Halanan's shirt and picked his limp body up. He gave Timir's bloodied face a disgusted once over. "Yep. It's that holoprojector from the _Excelsior_," he confirmed.

"Holoprojector?" Kazra looked puzzled.

"He can make holograms with his head," Zlar declared.

Michaev's brow shot up. "Take them to the brig. Both of them."

Zlar dragged the unconscious Timir off the bridge and Meili directed the Romulan to follow them at phaser point.

The Chameloid in disguise didn't resist, but glanced back at Michaev before departing and said, "I need to talk to you, Admiral."

"You'll get a visit from me sooner than you wish," Michaev growled.

=/\=

Cold water splashing into his face brought Timir back to full consciousness. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head. It felt like it wanted to explode. His nose hurt, too. He carefully touched it. There was blood on his hand when he withdrew it.

"Looking a little rough, pretty boy," Zlar's voice was dripping with sarcasm. He leaned down into the Halanan's face.

Timir pushed the Andorian away with a grunt.

"Let me just put him out of his misery, Admiral." Zlar waved his phaser around.

"Put that thing down." Boris Michaev walked into the small room. The _Umbra_ didn't have any brig cells, just small rooms in a confined area that could easily be overlooked and locked up physically, instead of with forcefields.

Timir sat up a little straighter on the cot as the Admiral approached. His chin was aching when he opened his mouth to spout something unsavory at Zlar. He quickly ran his tongue over his teeth to check if he still had them all. To his relief, he did. But he could also taste blood in his mouth. _'Damn Andorian bastard.'_

"You can make this easy on yourself, or very hard," Michaev stopped some three feet away from the Halanan, "it's up to you."

"What do you want?" Timir mumbled. It was somewhat painful to speak.

"I'm curious," Michaev began, "since I've been informed that you had been on the _Excelsior_ when my," he glanced to Zlar, "associate was on it as well, it's surprising to see you here. Which begs the question: Is the _Excelsior_ nearby?" He narrowed his eyes at Timir, "Is Captain T'Ashal with you?"

The Halanan turned his head and defiantly stared at the nearby wall.

"I see," the Admiral sighed, "you want to make this difficult." He shook his head at Zlar when the Andorian indicated he wanted to dial up the setting of his phaser. Returning his attention back to Timir, he noted, "It's too bad really. A man of your talents could make a fine living working for someone like me."

Timir scoffed, "Too bad for you. I don't like Starfleet."

"You're working for Starfleet right now," Michaev countered.

"_Only_ as long as it suits me," Timir breathed, "and right now, it suits me to stop _you_ from devastating the Rihannsu people."

Michaev guffawed. "Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know."

The Admiral laughed again. "I think you thoroughly misunderstand me, Mister Traore. Someone's been planting wrong ideas in your head." A nasty grin curled the corners of his mouth. "Like that wench of a Captain... T'Ashal."

Timir narrowed his eyes.

"You should be careful about how much you believe of what she says," Michaev's grin widened, "she's not exactly what she pretends to be. I believe in her native tongue, you'd call her kind a susse-thrai."

The Halanan jumped up. "Khoi-udt, kllhe!"

Zlar was next to Timir in a flash, jabbing his phaser into the Halanan's ribs. "I think you hit a soft spot, Admiral," he commented cynically.

Michaev stared Timir in the eyes. His voice was emotionless when he spoke, "I need you to project Mirok for me, so we can contact the Klingons that are bound to join our little party."

"Lmirrhlhhse'hr!" Timir spat.

The Admirals face contorted into a frown. "Very well." His eyes flicked to Zlar.

The Andorian didn't have to be told twice. He was poised for this. It gave him sadistic pleasure to unload the phaser into the Halanan's body. While it was on stun, the proximity of the beam caused severe pain and made Timir cry out in agony before he collapsed on the floor.

Michaev turned and marched out of the room wearing a sour expression.

Zlar followed only after he delivered a kick to Timir's limp body. He didn't even bother picking the man up from the floor and laying him on the cot. It suited the Andorian just fine that Timir was scrambled on the hard floor with a few bruised ribs and a bloody face.

=/\=

"And what's your role in all of this?" Michaev stood in the doorway of the small room that held the Romulan Arrain.

The man turned around, eying the Admiral contemplatively.

"What's your name?" Michaev probed.

"I'm Arrain R'Kal," Temba answered in Rihannsu.

"You wanted to talk to me," the Admiral continued with an irritated tone, "Well, here's your chance. Talk. And it better be something good, because right now it's not looking so rosy for you." He crossed his arms. "What happened to Mirok?"

"They captured us and killed him," the shapeshifter lied. "Knowing that you would recognize me if we were to talk via a visual link, they forced me to cooperate and take that... demon to meet with you."

"Demon?" Michaev chuckled lightly, "He's a Halanan."

"He has uncanny powers," Temba proclaimed.

"You could say that." A wry smirk formed on Michaev's lips. He stepped into the room. "So now what? What good are _you_ to me?"

"I don't know. What is it you need?"

"I wanted the Halanan to project Mirok for me, so I could contact the Klingons," Michaev grumbled through gritted teeth, "but he refused."

"Admiral," Temba made an impassionate appeal, taking a step toward Michaev, "_I'm_ the one who handled the last communication with the Klingon fleet for Mirok."

His advance was immediately cut off by Zlar, who shot around the Admiral and resolutely pointed his phaser at the Romulan. "Stay put," the Andorian agent demanded.

Temba raised both his hands to show his submission to the command, nor had he any ill intent.

"So you know how to contact them?" Michaev mused, eying the man with a sideways glance. "And they won't question who you are if they see you?"

"Ie. Exactly." Temba nodded.

"Why would you help us?" the Admiral asked skeptically.

"It's not like I'm here voluntarily," the Chameloid reminded Michaev. Adding with some acid, "Why should I help those Rihannsu _dogs_ that collaborate with the Federation when I can aid you to see Mirok's plan through, instead?"

"True." Michaev contemplated just a moment. He wasn't at all convinced that Arrain R'Kal's motives were completely pure, but the Roman seemed willing to help and they definitely needed the cooperation of those Klingons Mirok had recruited. "Alright," he finally said, "but don't imagine you're free to move about the ship. You'll be on the bridge with us, under watch, and shackled to one of the chairs."

"As you wish, Admiral."

* * *

_Arrain = Centurion (SF rank equivalent: Lieutenant)_

_Susse-thrai = she-wolf; bitch_

_Khoi-udt = Drop dead!_

_Kllhe = worm; offal-eater_

_Lmirrhlhhse'hr = sc**w yourself_

_Ie = yes_


	14. Chapter 13: Move and Countermove

Chapter 13: "Move and Countermove"

=/\= - =/\=

"Leih, scanners picking up energy fluctuations, bearing two nine three mark seven," the Tactical Officer of the Romulan scout ship _Laehval_ reported.

Erei'Riov Dalok's grim expression momentarily lightened to one of surprise. He really hadn't expected to find anything, but rather had felt confident in his believe that Director Terrh was simply paranoid. Now it seemed that the Tal'Shiar officer did actually have some sort of sixth sense.

"Cause?" Dalok asked tersely.

"It's one of ours," the officer at the Science console chimed in.

"Fvadt," the Erei'Riov grumbled, "on screen."

Intermittent sputters of energy were visible on the screen. A piece of a hull section decloaked for but a second, then more fizzles of energy followed, and another brief flashing of an outline.

"It's a shuttle, rekkhai," the Tactical Officer informed.

"A shuttle? This far out in space?" Dalok's brow quirked. "Scan for its mother ship," he ordered. "Helm, take us to the coordinates."

"Ie, rekkhai," the helmsman promptly replied, "heading two nine three mark seven."

=/\=

"No ships within scanning radius, leih," the Tactical Officer reported just as the _Laehval_ came up next to the small craft. "There are also no indications of any cloaked ships of ours."

"No lifeforms aboard the shuttle either, Erei'Riov," the Science Office noted.

"Khre'Arrain Gwui," Dalok mashed a button at his seat, calling on his security team, "take two officers with you and beam over to the coordinates I'm sending to the transporter room. It's one of our shuttles, supposedly unmanned. I want you to search it."

"_Ie, rekkhai_," a female voice answered.

"Keep me informed," Dalok instructed her.

He leaned back in his seat, pondering on why exactly an unmanned Rihannsu shuttle would be here, now. Could it be a trap, loaded with explosive devices to blow them out of the sky? But nothing his tactical officer had reported thus far had indicated that. Could the craft have been out here for a long time, and they just hadn't noticed it until the cloak began to fail? But who would so carelessly leave an empty shuttle in space? And what would its function have been? To spy on them? It all seemed rather obscure.

=/\=

"_The shuttle is secured_," Gwui's voice brought Dalek to focus back on the matter at hand, "_There is nobody on board, rekkhai. Orders?_"

"Shut down the cloak," the Erei'Riov commanded, "pilot it back to the _Lagga_, take it into the hangar. We'll be escorting you and then beam you back on board once you've parked it."

"_Understood_," Gwui acknowledged.

Dalek patiently watched as the shuttle's cloak was deactivated. He halfway expected someone to start firing on the small craft when they began to move toward the planet, but nothing happened. It was all still very strange to him. Perhaps Terrh would have a better idea of what might be going on.

"Open a channel to the _Lagga_," he requested with slight trepidations over just how the Director might react to this find.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"My intuition has never failed me, Dalek," Terrh ch'Vaeridh rumbled, gloating just a little. As arrogant as some might found him to be, Terrh's hunches had not only proven correct time and again, they had also saved his life more often than he could count.

The _Laehval_'s captain's report had made him sure in his belief that there was a Rihannsu force out there somewhere, poised to foil his plans, and he wasn't about to wait until they would attack. He would take measures to assure they would get a nasty little surprise should they come blasting into the inner circle of the system. Despite Dalok saying that his officers had not detected any signs of possible cloaked Galae ships, Terrh was certain he could trust his feelings more than the instruments.

He stepped up to the control console and opened a comm link to all three of his ships. "Attention, leihs," he boomed, "an intruder has been found. While it was only a small shuttle, I am not about to sit here and wait for any other ships to drop in and ambush us." The fury in his voice abated a bit, and changed into a calmer but cold and menacing tone, "I'm ordering all of you to head to the asteroid belt's edge and deploy a line of cloaked mines. Coordinate your efforts to cover the most space possible. Start from where the shuttle was found into the direction of the planets orbital path, along the asteroid belt and toward the planet itself. Erei'Riov Dalek has the coordinates."

He clenched his jaw, "I'll arm them as soon as you're done with your task." A sinister smile suddenly spread on his lips, "We'll either flush out who's already here, or give an unforgettable greeting to whomever will be visiting."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Bravo," Admiral Boris Michaev clapped theatrically, "What a performance, Arrain R'Kal. You almost had me believe that poor old Mirok was impeded with taking care of his wounds and had to have you handle the contact with the Klingons as his _loyal_ servant," he finished his caustic critique. "You missed your calling."

The Chameloid in disguise as a Romulan turned, just as the illumination on the _Umbra_'s bridge brightened again. They had dimmed the surroundings and added a few purposefully placed red and green lights, glaring in the direction of the visual sensor, so that the Klingons wouldn't be easily able to tell what R'Kal's surroundings were. It had worked. The question of his whereabouts had not come up in the conversation.

"You have a funny way of showing your gratitude, Admiral," Temba replied in Rihannsu. "You know, I didn't have to do this for you."

"And I don't have to keep you alive," Michaev replied blatantly. He motioned to Zlar, and the Andorian promptly ushered the supposed Romulan to a seat, where he was shackled to the chair's arms with manacles to both wrists.

"Now," the Admiral sauntered over, "thank you for your services." He gave a slight bow. "The Klingons will be here within the hour. They're awaiting our signal before making the attack run on the mining vessel. All's in good order."

"I thought the prize you wanted w_as_ the mining ship?" Temba cocked his head. "Why tell the Klingons to damage it?"

"Oh, they won't get that far," Michaev assured him, "As soon as they decloak to attack, the Romulans will be all over them." He smiled coyly. "You might not see anything out there," he motioned to the viewscreen, where the huge mining ship loomed, "but you know as well as I do, Terrh has his ass covered. I'm sure there are plenty of cloaked ships to protect his little project."

=/\=

"Admiral," Waridid drew Michaev's attention to the screen, "look."

A greenish speck was moving toward the enormous mining vessel.

"Magnify," Michaev ordered. He stepped up to his command chair and laid a hand on it, watching intently as the scene came into focus. "Well well..." he wore a lopsided grin, "looks like somebody found the derelict shuttle."

The small craft moved into the mining ship's holds and vanished from their view.

"How much do you want to bet that it had a cloaked escort?" The Admiral glanced at his agents in turn. None of them took the bet, of course. He chuckled. His eyes went back to the viewscreen. "So, there we go. Now we can be sure Terrh knows that somebody's out here."

"Great," Meili muttered.

"And you know, he's sure to be looking," Michaev noted ominously. "Keep and eye out, Micro, and stay your distance."

=/\=

"Admiral." This time it was Kazra drawing Michaev's attention. He looked up from the bluish crystal in his hands.

"What is it?"

There was a dismal expression in Kazra's eyes when he spoke, "I was just checking on Amtor. Apparently he received instructions from his superior in connection with the discovery of the shuttle."

"And?" Michaev looked a little tense.

"And..." Kazra sighed, "the head Engineer passed down orders from Terrh about assisting the three ships with supplying them with... cloaked mines."

"Where?" Michaev asked brusquely.

"Something about carpeting the area between the asteroid belt and the planet," Kazra answered.

"Damn." Meili flopped onto her seat. "If they manage to do that and activate the mines... it'll be almost impossible for anyone to approach the mining ship covertly."

"It's a big area to cover," Zlar pointed out. "Plus, the planet is moving. It's not like they can carpet one spot and they'll be good. They'd have to continue modifying the perimeters of the mine field, and that takes a lot of mines."

"True," the female agent countered, "but they could always just move the ones from the rear to the front."

"And chance setting off the mines themselves?" Kazra interjected.

"No, you dumbass," she spouted angrily, "they'd just turn them off. They got the codes."

"Who are you calling a dumbass?" Kazra shot across the bridge, ready to slap the Augment agent.

Meili sprung up from her chair.

"Enough!" Michaev bellowed. "Get back to your consoles!"

Meili's nostrils flared. She glared at Kazra. He glared back. But then both capitulated under Michaev's dark stare and went back to handle their duties. All the while, Temba carefully watched the scene in silence.

"We're moving the ship," the Admiral declared. "Micro, take us away from the asteroids and move us as closer as possible to the mining vessel, without chancing getting in the way of anything flying by."

=/\=

It took almost thirty minutes for the _Umbra_ to make the journey from her former spot to within 200 meters of the Romulan mining ship, the _Lagga_. There, the cloaked Starfleet ship under the command of the notorious SFI Rear Admiral Boris Michaev would lay in wait until Kazra, aka Agent Succuba, would give word that the thalaron weapon was ready.

By then, the fleet of rogue Klingons should have arrived, and it would be time for Michaev's agents to pounce on the just as notorious, newly proclaimed Director of the Tal'Shiar, Khrein Terrh ch'Vaeridh, and spoil his fun. Michaev was almost giddy at the thought.

* * *

_Leih = Commander (the position, not the rank)_

_Erei'Riov = Sub-Commander (SF equivalent rank: Commander)_

_Fvadt = Damn_

_Rekkhai = Sir_

_Khre'Arrain = Senior-Centurion (SF equivalent rank: Lt. Cmdr.)_

_Galae = Romulan Fleet_

_Khrein = General  
_


	15. Chapter 14: Twisted Mind

Chapter 14: "Twisted Mind"

=/\= - =/\=

"It's time to get ready," Admiral Michaev announced.

"I'm always ready." Meili Monoh, aka Agent QT, flashed a coy grin.

Kazra rolled his eyes.

"Then you have the bridge," Michaev noted. "Keep watch over our Romulan friend, while I take care of something with the boys." He flashed back a conspiratorial smile.

"Sure, no problem with me." She bounced into the command chair and inspected her fingernails casually. "I've got everything under control."

The Admiral chuckled and motioned the men off the bridge. He eyed Kazra, who was once again rolling his eyes, but Michaev was glad the half Betazoid, half Haliian didn't spout anything cynical. Petty bickering had to be put to the side now. It was crunch time.

Outside in the corridor, Michaev met Micro's big, greenish eyes. A flick of his head, "Go get it," and the Arkenite rushed off.

=/\=

The men all met again in the _Umbra_'s armory. Zlar opened the weapons lockers and made himself busy with laying out their usual arsenal. He knew exactly who would be carrying what, aside from whatever personal favorites they might bring.

Michaev held out his hand to Micro, and the Arkenite handed him a device that the Admiral had to hold in both hands. He weighed it in his grasp.

"What's that?" Kazra quirked a brow.

"It's a portable rift drive generator," Michaev educated the agent.

"Rift drive?" Kazra looked puzzled. Even Zlar looked up from what he was doing.

The Admiral nodded solemnly. "Micro has modified it to be integrated into Romulan propulsion systems."

Kazra's eyes widened as Michaev handed him the small but unexpectedly heavy unit.

"I want you to plug that into the mining vessel's propulsion system," Michaev informed. "Micro will tell you how."

"Why didn't I know of this?" Kazra felt a little insulted that Waridi had been working on a special engineering project without his knowledge. And now the Admiral expected _him_ to install and implement it.

"You did not have the necessary expertise," Waridi simply answered.

"Oh, ok," Kazra frowned, "I get it. I can handle _regular_ engineering matters, but I'm too dumb to get into the more complicated thing, is that it?" He looked challengingly at the Arkenite.

"Nobody said that," Michaev put a hand on Kazra's shoulder, "calm down, Succuba. Micro's been working on this for a while, before we ever started our trip. It took me months to even get a hold of one of the units, and much longer for Micro to make the needed adjustments."

Kazra grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. "Why a rift drive?" he asked out loud.

The Admiral's lips spread into a wide smile. His eyes had a menacing twinkle to them when he explained, "We'll be making a little temporal excursion with our newly acquired prize."

"To where?" Kazra carefully placed the device into a satchel.

"Oh," Michaev sounded nonchalant, "a few years back... to a rogue planet in the Omarion Nebula."

Zlar laid down a phaser rifle with a loud thud. The three others turned to look at him. "Omarion Nebula?" The Andorian's brow furrowed. "Isn't that the Founders' homeworld?"

Micro and Kazra shifted their gaze to Michaev. All three agents stared at the Admiral, awaiting his response with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

Boris Michaev maintained a benevolent smile. His reply came as easy as if he was talking about why he had pork chops for lunch, "Let's just say, we'll be ridding the Alpha and Beta Quadrants of a lot of trouble and unnecessary losses," he grabbed one of the rifles and inspected it idly for but a moment, "and after we're done," he aimed the rifle's targeting light at the wall, a twisted grin on his face, "the Federation will reign supreme."

=/\=

Meili's hand slid over the Romulan's shoulder as she rounded his chair. It traveled up his neck to his ear. Her fingers brushed over the outline of its point, before she move around to his other side, letting her fingers trail over that ear as well.

"You know," she purred as she sunk onto his lap, "you are kinda cute for a Rom."

Temba, still in disguise as Arrain R'Kal, watched her intently. He had no idea what the concupiscent agent was up to, but it put him on high alert... among other things.

She flashed a flirtatious smile. "You don't like girls?" A finger grazed his jawline, then brushed over his lips, pulling the lower one down for a second before letting it snap back.

A semblance of a grin formed on Temba's face.

"You have interesting eyes for a Rom, you know?" Meili whispered, meeting his dark yellow eyes with her brilliant blue gaze.

"My whole family has them," Temba finally answered in a deep murmur, "it's a... genetic trait."

"I see..." She shifted on his lap. An impish sparkle suddenly flashed up in her eyes. She chuckled softly, "And here I thought we had relieved you of your guns."

"Hmm... you did take my disrupter," he smirked.

She purposely shifted once more, with more pressure this time, and leaned into him. Her voice was sultry and low, "Seems like being tied up is turning you on as much as m..."

The hissing sound coming from one of the bridge access doors stopped Meili's unabashed overture. She glanced to the arrival. Micro.

She let out a sigh, "You have impeccable timing."

"The Admiral wants you in the armory," Waridi remarked without giving any indication that he noticed what he had interrupted, "It is time to go. I will be staying on the ship." He moved to the helm console and sat. "He expects you at once."

Another, more audible sigh. Meili stood, a look of regret on her face. She grasped the Romulan's chin and lifted his gaze to look at her. "Too bad," she muttered, "but I'll see you later." A wink, and she rushed off.

=/\=

"Really?" Kazra shot a disgusted look at the two daggers Meili was wearing criss-crossed on her back. "What's it with you and always bringing swords?"

An exaggerated gasp. "Do I hear the sound of envy?" she mocked.

"As if," Kazra groaned, "I don't see the point. It's not like you can deflect weapon fire with them."

"You wouldn't understand," she flippantly replied and began arming herself with some of the selections Zlar had laid out, "brute."

"Ice," Michaev addressed the Andorian, "you'll accompany Succuba to the Engineering section. We're beaming in together and then split up. I don't want to chance two separate transports, just in case their sensors detect us." He slid a phaser into its holster. "Of course, chances are that they might still detect us, but at least then they can't raise shields to prevent any of us from beaming in. We'll already be there."

"Seems from what Succuba said there aren't too many people over there anyways," Zlar commented, "Mostly Engineers. Very little security."

"That might very well change once the weapon is ready and Terrh wants to take the ship out," Michaev surmised. "I know right now he seems to think that having cloaked ships around is all the protection he'll need. That miscalculation will cost him." He grinned sardonically.

Zlar chortled. "Considering how long we've been here watching him, and he had no clue..." He stashed a few reserve power packs.

Michaev nodded. "And now his wild goose chase after the ship where the shuttle originated from..."

"I'd say us dropping in will be a quite unexpected surprise," the Andorian finished the shared thought.

Michaev's grin darkened. Yes, his agents had a grasp of the situation, and the gravity of what it meant for this take-over to succeed. First the Founders would pay and then... the galaxy was theirs for the taking.

=/\=

"Admiral."

The tone of urgency in Kazra's voice snapped Michaev out of his sinister brooding. He whirled around, looking at the agent holding the amplifying crystal in his hand. Kazra's facial expression was grim. "What's wrong?"

"They finished with installing the thalaron weapon," he reported.

"Damn," Michaev cursed. He looked at his wrist chronometer. "The Klingons won't be here for another fifteen minutes or more."

"Amtor and most of the other workers are in the process of beaming back down to the planet," Kazra went on.

"And once they're off the ship..." Meili mused.

"...Terrh will most likely raise shields," Michaev chimed into her musing, "which means, we need to go. Now."

"But what about the Klingons?" Zlar interjected.

"We'll have to stall for time, if we must," the Admiral snapped, just a bit irritated that he had let himself get caught unawares. He grabbed the last of his supplies and headed to the door. "Let's go. We don't have any time to lose. We need to beam aboard before Terrh gets a chance to cut us off."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

The quartette of SFI officers beamed into what Micro had deemed via sensors to be a spot devoid of personnel. Most of the surroundings visible to them lay in dimness. There was a strumming of sorts that permeated the mining ship, as if it had a heartbeat. The air was humid and laced with the smell of grime and dust. This was definitely a ship of labor, not of luxury.

Michaev quickly informed Waridi they had made it safely. Subcutaneous communicators would keep the four agents in contact with the _Umbra_ and one another, but their was little chance of beaming them back out if Terrh would raise the shields. Thus far, the Tal'Shiar officer had not deemed it important enough to do so. Perhaps, Micheav thought, it was because Terrh still planned on carrying out some personnel transports.

The group split. They all had their assignments. It was time to find their targets and position themselves for the strike.

Zlar and Kazra began their trek downwards to the bowels of the ship, where the Engineering section lay and the main control of the thalaron generator. Michaev and Meili started moving upwards toward the central control level. They would have a slightly longer trip than the other two, but would most likely also encounter less resistance.

=/\=

It took only a few minutes for Zlar and Kazra to arrive in Engineering. The lighting was better there, but like with many Romulan ships, it still left much to wish for. They cautiously moved through the entrance. Kazra pointed out the strong glow of the thalaron generator in the forward section. They diverted their movement into that direction.

Zlar suddenly raised his hand. He squatted down behind a console. Kazra followed suit. Some ten meters away two Romulans rounded a corner and stopped at a display, discussing something on the monitor.

The Andorian motioned for his fellow agent to make his way around to the men's left, while Zlar set out to flank them from the right. If possible, they wanted to neutralize them without the use of phasers. It could all too easily sound an alert.

The duo of SFI agents sprung upon the unsuspecting Romulans. It was an all too short fight for Zlar. He possessed greater strength than his opponent and simply snapped the man's neck. Kazra, on the other hand, had more of a battle at hand. Not only did his adversary try to pull a disruptor on him, once that was eliminated, the man engaged Kazra in hand-to-hand combat.

Zlar was just about to jump into the fray when a disruptor hit seared his left shoulder. He whirled around in pain, spotted the Romulan officer, and immediately rushed him. The shock in the man's eyes left no doubt that he had not expected that move. He didn't get off another shot.

By the time the Andorian rose back up, leaving the prone body of the Romulan on the floor, Kazra had finally overwhelmed his opponent as well.

"Took you long enough," Zlar noted, glancing down at the dead Romulan.

"You think internal sensors have picked up on the disruptor fire?" Kazra queried breathlessly, motioning to the other Romulan.

"I don't know," Zlar looked around, "I don't see any alarm lights flashing or other indication of alert. Who knows, this ship might not have internal sensors."

"It has to have something in case fire erupts," Kazra commented and walked over to one of the consoles, "With all the things that could go wrong with mining equipment, I doubt no safety measures are in place."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they got sensors to detect intruders," Zlar shrugged, moving to Kazra's side, "Why would a mining vessel be concerned about that? And they'd be using welding and cutting tools. Those could set off sensors if they'd be too sensitive to energy blasts." He looked around the section. "I think everything's secure."

"Alright." Kazra opened the satchel and extracted the rift drive generator.

Zlar motioned to where they had come from. "I'll cover the entrance, you do your work." He found a good spot and readied his phaser rifle.

"Admiral," Kazra contacted Michaev, "we've secured Engineering. I'm beginning integration of the rift drive generator now."

=/\=

"They're at their target. Starting to install the device," Michaev informed Meili in whisper as they both stepped from a lift. All had been quiet thus far, and they had not encountered a soul. But one never knew. Stealth needed to be maintained.

Somewhere up ahead, they could make out stronger illumination surrounding a large platform some two meters elevated from their current level. Micheav motioned Meili to the right. They carefully scaled a few smaller platforms along the curve of the ship's outer wall, until they were actually on a level a good three meters above the command center platform.

Slowly and quietly, they made their way in the shadows along the wall, approaching the large window section that gave a magnificent view of the planet below and the space between it and the asteroid belt.

Michaev suddenly halted, just about at the end of the platform they were on. He stuck his hand out to stop Meili's movement as well. Quietly, they both gazed down onto the control center.

A lone figure stood by the window. His legs slightly apart, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze directed out into space. And where a Romulan's disruptor would usually be holstered on a belt, he wore a sword in its sheath instead.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

Consciousness returned to Timir slowly. He shifted a little, pulled himself up, and leaned against the bunk. Aside from his head, nose, and chin, now his whole body was aching as well. He groaned. He recalled the sensation of his nerves sizzling when Zlar unloaded the phaser energy into his body at close range. It wasn't an experience he wished on anyone.

His gaze went around the small room. The door was closed, probably locked. Considering he was still on the _Umbra_, it meant the _Paladin_ had most likely not made it past the asteroid field yet, or they had no clue where he was. In either case, he needed to find way to free himself.

Timir tried to raise up, but he only made it so far as to be able to sit _on_ the bunk now, instead of on the floor _beside_ the bunk. He caught his breath, feeling a little lightheaded still. There was no way he'd be able to force his way out of his confinement in this condition.

'_First thing's first_,' he reminded himself, '_find out what the situation is_.' He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious.

Laying back and relaxing, he made himself a bit more comfortable. He just had to explore the ship via his unusual talent. But there was no way he had the strength to conjure up the sabre cat. Besides, the hataki would be much more inconspicuous, considering it was a mere few inches long.

=/\=

The little cricket-like creature materialized at the back of the _Umbra_'s bridge, below one of the consoles. It looked around for a moment, then hopped onto a chair, and finally the flat part of the console's input section. It positioned itself to look toward the viewscreen, its visual and auditory perception linked with Timir's mind.

It was a weird experience to see surroundings through an insects point of view. A strange globe-like distortion warped its vision. Timir could make out two people on the bridge. One at what he knew to be the helm console and one on the opposite side from where his holo-creation was perched, though the figures were distorted.

He knew from observations earlier and the seemingly large head of the man at helm that it must be the Arkenite agent. On closer inspection of the other figure, Timir realized that one wore a gray top. All SFI agents had worn black, which led him to conclude that this person must be Temba, still disguised as the Romulan officer. But why was the Chameloid on the bridge? And apparently alone with the Arkenite. Where was Michaev and the others?

Timir knew he had to investigate further. Carefully, he directed the hataki off the console and onto the floor again. It hopped across the bridge and approached the chair with Temba from behind, cautiously keeping out of sight in the shadow of the console. Looking up at this proximity, Timir finally got his answer why Temba seemed frozen to the chair. Apparently, the shapeshifter was shackled to his seat.

The Halanan guided the insect on along the baseboard of the consoles, until it came to the very edge, in the same line as the helm console. Pressing to the wall, it could look to the viewscreen in the front at much closer range. If Timir wasn't mistaken, portion of the mining ship loomed in front of them. So close, he was certain it wasn't due to magnification, but due to actual proximity to the Romulan ship.

A booming - like thunder mixed with the deafening rushing of massive waters - made Timir cringe. His eyes popped open. He lost his concentration, and the hataki vanished from the bridge.

"They made it," he whispered to himself, realizing that the deep, rumbling sound had been the Arkenite's voice and what the man had said. Apparently, the other agents were on the mining vessel.

* * *

_Arrain = Centurion (SF equivalent rank: Lieutenant)_


	16. Chapter 15: A Good Day to Die

Chapter 15: "A Good Day to Die"

=/\= - =/\=

Footsteps behind him caused Terrh ch'Vaeridh to turn around. From somewhere out of the dimness beyond the control center a Romulan made his way up a few small platforms to Terrh's level. The man stopped and met his eyes.

"D'Nal tr'Khev," Terrh grimaced, "Out of all people, I didn't expect you."

D'Nal, aka Mirok ch'Taris, lowered himself to one knee. He bowed his head in homage, "Rekkhai, you are in grave danger."

Terrh laughed out scornfully. "From you?"

Mirok's gaze lifted. He frowned, "No. Of course not."

"Then you're not here to seize this ship?"

"No." Mirok's frown deepened. "I'm here to warn you of a Fleeter plot. A menace by the name of Admiral Michaev..."

=/\=

"It's already too late," Boris Michaev boasted loudly from his elevated perch.

Terrh glanced up and to his left, beholding two Humans, male and female, with phasers aimed straight at him. He didn't flinch.

Michaev and his female agent fired on the Tal'Shiar officer. To their utter astonishment, the beams from their weapons never even came close to hitting Terrh. They were redirected and absorbed by certain points along the structural joists that supported the control platform and surrounding assembly.

Terrh's disdainful laughter echoed through the upper section of the ship. "Humans?" he boomed, looking at D'Nal, accusing, "You're in league with them now?"

Mirok looked puzzled.

"Too bad for you," Terrh spat, his head flicking back to momentarily stare up at Michaev and Meili, "that their energy weapons don't work here."

Meili's face contorted in anger. Once more she triggered her phaser, just to realize how true the Romulan's word were as the beam was once again deflected and absorbed. It only served to increase her rage.

"Clever man," Michaev muttered.

"I'm no fool," Terrh's searing gaze snapped back to D'Nal, "traitor!" With one fluid motion, he grasped the hilt of his sword, pulled it from the sheath, and brought it across D'Nal's body to decapitate him.

Though, nothing of the sort happened. Mirok's head wasn't severed, nor did it roll to the floor. To Terrh's utter surprise what had appeared to be one of the Tal'Shiar Colonel known to him simply vanished. A projection!

=/\=

Agent QT realized her chance and, like any well-trained SFI officer, took advantage of the Romulan's brief befuddlement to make her move. Like a cat, the Augment jumped the three meters down to the control center platform and landed with grace. It brought her pleasure to see another stunned expression flash in Terrh's eyes. It was the moment of realization that he wasn't just facing another normal Human.

In a flash, Meili reached to her back and pulled the two foot-long daggers. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she began circling Terrh like a predator would its prey. A sinister smile curled her flawless lips.

The Romulan brought up his sword and moved with her, never letting her out of her sight as he analyzed his opponent. A grin formed on his lips, too. He could taste the exhilaration the promise of a fierce battle would bring.

Michaev watched the two circle each other, sizing each other up. When they suddenly engaged - metal blade hitting metal blade - he darted from his vantage to find a spot more level with the command center platform.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Entering inner section of the Talvath system, rekkhai," the _Greiirh_'s helmsman reported. "Talvath two is just up ahead."

"Move us in, carefully," Riov Hvaid instructed. "Inform the _Paladin_ that we will be trying to contact the cloaked Tal'Shiar ships immediately."

"Ie, leih."

"Open hailing frequencies," Hvaid ordered. He stood, taking a deep breath. "Attention Rihannsu vessels. This is Riov Hvaid tr'Khaiell. I am here by authority of Galae Command. I know you are out there. Decloak and stand down."

A long moment of silence passed.

"I'm not getting anything, rekkhai," the helmsman noted with a glance to his captain.

Hvaid turned to look at his Tactical Officer. "Are sensors picking up anything?"

"Possibly," the woman replied with a grimace, "at least two ships... I believe... maybe..."

"Maybe?" Hvaid frowned.

"It's hard to say, rekkhai," the Tactical Officer looked apologetic, "there seems to be something else, but I don't know what. It's... dispersed somehow, and faint. I'm not sure what to make of it."

Hvaid's frown deepened.

=/\=

"Leih?" The helmsman of the scout ship _Laehval _looked expectantly at her captain.

Erei'Riov Dalok scowled, "Do not reply. We'll be waiting for our orders."

Once more Riov Hvaid's voice sounded over the comm channel, giving a more pointed warning to the cloaked Tal'Shiar ships. Dalok pondered how many other vessels the _Greiirh_'s captain had with him.

"Keep on distributing the mines," the Erei'Riov commanded coolly, though in the back of his mind he was anxiously wondering what Terrh would have them do now.

A moment later, he had his answer.

"We're receiving instructions to move away from the mine field and take up position in defense of the _Lagga_, rekkhai," the man at the tactical console reported.

Dalok shot the officer a questioning look.

"Riov Nahir is about to activate the mines," the Tactical Officer replied.

"Move us out," Dalok immediately ordered. While he wished he had heard the command from Terrh himself, Nahir was the senior commander of the three Tal'Shiar ships, and Dalok was not about to questions the woman.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

The little hataki fizzled into existence on the _Umbra_'s bridge once again. It crept up on the seat occupied by Temba. Timir hoped to scout out a way to unlock the door to the small room he was held in.

As the tiny creature looked up, Temba's form began to change. The Chameloid morphed into a smaller person, easily slipping out of his bindings, and stood. Quietly, he moved up behind the Arkenite helmsman and once again changed shape, turning into a huge, hairy beast with long sickle-shaped claws.

=/\=

Timir flinched. "No..."

He sat up with a start and squeezed his eyes shut tighter, forcing himself to focus so as not to lose his projection. His strength had returned some and he managed to change the being to that of the sabre cat he had created before. He had to do something to intervene.

Though, as he made the creature jump to pounce Temba's new form, he could see the Arkenite agent stand up abruptly and whirl around. The man's bulbous eyes seemed to be getting even bigger. He reached for his weapon, but Temba's beast moved faster. Waridi's face froze as one of the razor sharp claws impaled his chest and the beast's other paw slashed across his throat.

Through his projection's eyes, Timir saw the Arkenite's limp body fall to the floor just as the sabre cat sprung onto Temba's back. The beast spun around and violently slashed and thrashed at its attacker.

It only took moments for Timir to lose the projection in the intensity of the fray.

His eyes fluttered open. He slumped back against the wall, letting out an exasperated sigh. What good was it anyways. The helmsman was dead. All that resistance would do now was to remind Temba that someone was still alive on the ship. And Timir doubted he had any chance fighting against that beast, even if he knew it was coming.

The Halanan looked up from the bunk and to the locked door, wondering if Temba would come barreling through it any moment to finish him off.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

Space lit up with several explosions. Pieces of a fragmented ship hull scattered in the void. A moment later, a Rihannsu Valdor class warbird decloaked.

=/\=

"What the hell was that?" Riov Hvaid yelled across his bridge.

"Mines, rekkhai. Cloaked mines," the Tactical Officer reported. "The _Draere_ has taken damage."

"Evasive maneuvers," Hvaid commanded.

"To where, leih?" The helmsman asked confused.

"The mines could be anywhere," the Tactical Officer noted, staring at her captain.

"Damn Tal'Shiar." Hvaid let out a string of curses.

As he looked back to the viewscreen and the decloaked and damaged _Draere_, three Rihannsu ships decloaked between his group's position and the mining vessel. The Tal'Shiar ships; poised and ready to defend the _Lagga_ by any means.

Hvaid stood. "Decloak."

The _Greiirh_ dropped its cloak, followed shortly by the two other remaining vessels in its company. Four Galae ships facing three Tal'Shiar ones. A Rihannsu standoff.

"They have shields up and are powering weapons," the Tactical Officer looked expectantly at Hvaid.

The Riov held his hand up. "Open channel again." A nod from his Comm Officer and Hvaid spoke, "Tal'Shiar vessels, stand down and deactivate the mines. This is your last warning. Stand down!"

There was no reply.

Hvaid frowned. He glanced to the Comm Officer, "Inform the scout ship to try and find the mines and neutralize them."

"Ie, rekkhai."

His face set, Hvaid ordered, "Battlestations."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

Temba had watched the fireworks go off out in space and the seven Romulan ships decloak in turn. A snarl parted the lips of his beastly form. He morphed back into Arrain N'Ral and tapped a few commands into the helm console.

He bowed his head when a Klingon warrior appeared on the viewer. "It is time."

"We will commence attack momentarily," the Klingon captain acknowledged, "the weapon shall be ours soon."

A sinister smile played across Temba's features as the screen went back to show the now commencing battle between the seven Romulan ships. While the Romulans would shred each other to pieces, he would beam aboard the mining vessel and make short work of Michaev and his bunch.

All the Klingons had to do was finish off what would be left of the Romulan ships. Then, they could have their weapon and take it back to Qo'noS and overthrow Chancellor Martok. It would bring a new era for him and his people, and that's all Temba cared about.

=/\=

A few minutes later, Temba burst into the _Umbra_'s small transporter room. He stepped up to the control console and set it to beam him to the same coordinates Michaev and his agents had beamed to earlier.

"Too bad I can't set you on self-destruct," he muttered, "but we'll do the next best thing." He smirked, tapping on the console some more.

"Time to jump ship." Temba activated the transporter with a slight delay and hopped onto the pad. A broad smile spread on his lips.

The moment he'd transport away, the _Umbra_ would decloak and the Tal'Shiar surely would fire on the unshielded ship. It would mean certain death for Timir.

"It's a good day to die, my friend," Temba mocked as he dematerialized.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

It seemed to all happen in the same moment. A fleet of nine Klingon ships suddenly decloaked on the far side of Valvath II. The _Umbra_ decloaked next to the mining vessel. One of the Tal'Shiar ships immediately reacted and took her under fire. Just to find itself faced with the Klingon fleet, joining the mayhem.

And then all hell broke loose...

* * *

_Rekkhai = Sir_

_Leih = Commander (not the rank but the possition)_

_Ie = Yes_

_Arrain = Centurion (SF equivalent rank: Lieutenant)_


	17. Chapter 16: Fracas

Chapter 16: "Fracas"

=/\= - =/\=

"Commodore, the _Umbra_ decloaked and is taking heavy fire," Lt. Cmdr. Lyle Edmundson reported. "Her shields are down. She won't be able to take much."

"Life signs?" Anthony Grego looked at his Science Officer.

"One," Fist Lt. Syn Carax answered, looking up at her captain, "it's Halanan."

"Beam him off of there," the Commodore ordered.

"Establishing transporter lock," Cmdr. T'Luz informed.

Greco furrowed his brow, gazing at the Defiant class ship caught in the middle of Romulan and Klingon fire exchange. He clenched his jaw when space was lit up by an explosion as the small ship disintegrated.

His head snapped around to his XO, "Did you get him?"

T'Luz exhaled with force. "Yes, sir. I beamed him directly to sickbay."

"Good." Greco stood. "I'm doing down there. You have the conn, Commander." He didn't wait for any protest, but stepped into the turbolift and held the door open for just a moment. "And, Commander, keep in contact with Hvaid. Assist him with any means necessary and coordinate battle strategies. Once I'm off the ship, drop the cloak and get shields up."

"Commodore, I still believe this to be illog..."

Greco held his hand up to stop his Vulcan XO in mid-sentence. "We've already disgust this. I must go. I _must_ find Michaev. No more debates." He let the lift door shut.

=/\=

"I'm fine! Would you just get off of me?" Timir pushed Doctor Karpenko away.

"You're a most impossible man," the CMO grumbled, "You've sustained nerve damage from the close-range veapon's discharge, for crying out loud."

Anthony Greco stepped into sickbay, making a beeline directly to Lev and Timir.

"Commodore," Timir sounded relieved when he caught sight of Tony, "would you please tell your CMO to back off?"

"I'm glad to see you alive." Greco smiled.

Timir slid off the bio bed and took a few steps toward Greco, trying to slip out from under Karpenko's scrutiny. "Commodore, Michaev beamed to the mining vessel with his agents and left his helmsman behind, and then Temba turned on the guy and killed him. He morphed into a huge beast with razor-sharp claws. I think he might have killed Mirok the same way. And then he beamed over to the mining ship, too, leaving me to be blown up..."

"Ok ok," Greco motioned the Halanan operative to slow down, "we don't have time to discuss it all. We know Michaev is on the mining ship, and we've got an assault team ready to beam over and take him into custody." He put his hand to Timir's chest, "Sit back down, let the Doc take care of you. I'm on my way to the transporter room to accompany the team. I just wanted to check on you."

"Vhat did I tell you, Mister Timir," Lev Karpenko noted, "it's all in good hands."

"Let me go with you," Timir requested.

"He's sustained injuries, Commodore," the Doctor warned. "He should rest. I vant to give him a full check-up."

"I'm fine, I told you!" Timir snapped at the CMO more vehemently.

"We can handle it," Greco assured the Halanan, pushing him back to the bio bed. "I really need to go."

"_Commodore_," Arhea's voice came over Greco's commbadge, "_we're ready. Where are you? We need to get a move on._"

"Commodore," Timir pushed the Greco's hand off with more determination after hearing Arhea's voice, "you'll need me."

"Timir," Greco began to reason. He glanced at Lev, who was setting up a hypospray injection.

"I _must_ go. Please," Timir insisted.

Tony sighed, then motioned to Karpenko to put the hypo down. "Fine. Let's go then."

"Sure," Lev grumbled, crossing his arms, as the two men rushed out, "don't listen to the doctor. Vhat do I know, right?" He wagged his head. "I only vent to medical school for how many years?"

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

The clanking of metal filled the air around the _Lagga_'s control center as the fierce battle between Agent QT and the Romulan Tal'Shiar officer, Terrh, was still in full force.

Having reached the level of platforms that he and his agent had stepped out on when leaving the lift earlier, Boris Michaev ascended toward the control center once more; this time directly approaching the area from the front.

Just as he was poised to rise onto the platform one step below the control area, silence fell over the scene. Had one of them been killed?

The Admiral stepped up and peered onto the battlefield. Both combatants were still standing, though farther apart at the moment with the control console separating them. Both still held their weapons at ready, though once again simply circling each other around the obstacle. Both staring at one another with intense hatred in their eyes.

=/\=

Terrh was breathing hard. He could feel the intensity of the fight wearing on him. This woman was fierce and unrelenting. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold her at bay and was glad for the few moments of breathing the sudden break in action afforded him.

He narrowed his eyes and curled his lips in a snarl, hoping to hide his exhaustion from her behind a grim expression. She simply stared back at him with an icy glare from her bright blue eyes, seeming as refreshed as when they had started the battle.

His respite was only too short-lived.

Like a cat, QT jumped atop the control console and launched another attack, accompanied by a fearsome battle cry. Terrh brought his sword up to slash at her as she sprung in his direction from her elevated position, only to watch her body twist and sail over his blade in a sideways whirl.

He turned with her and brought the weapon back around, slicing at her feet as she landed. She jumped back, though he caught one of her legs. Blood immediately flowed from the gash. A defiant growl escape her throat, but the wound did not slow her.

Empowered by his partial success, Terrh turned the movement of his blade back into the other direction again and swiped it across at the height of her head, hoping to decapitated her. Though the woman had already dropped to her knees in apparent anticipation of the move and was poised to throw one of her daggers into his unprotected torso.

Terrh realized it in mid-swing and grabbed the sword firmly with both hands. She'd kill him with a dagger to his heart, but he would deal her a blow from above that would kill her as well. With all his might, he brought the sword straight down at her, awaiting the sharp pain of her dagger piercing his chest.

Though, instead, she had realized his change of movement and leaned back, crossing her two dagger to parry the sword's downward blow and hooking one of the curved quillons of her dagger's cross guard around the Romulan's blade.

Terrh's two-toned eyes met her cocky gaze with surprise as he grasped the fact that she was about to twist his weapon from his hands. A brief expression of victory flashed in her eyes as she relished the moment. Though her arrogance came at a high price.

Her eyes suddenly widened in shock.

The Romulan had done the only thing he could do: lean into his sword and drive it forward... right into her throat.

=/\=

"No!" Michaev cried out.

Terrh shot him a triumphant glance as he gave the gurgling agent's body a shove with his boot, pushing her over the edge of the platform.

"You bastard." Michaev put his foot on the control platform, his phaser trained on the Tal'Shiar agent.

Somewhere down below, QT's daggers clattered onto another platform. Her limp body hit its edge and plummeted farther, until it slammed onto a cross-walkway.

Terrh laughed scornfully. "You think you're going to do something with that?" He pointed to Michaev's weapon. "I thought you had learned by now."

"I still have my hands," the SFI agent spouted. "You think they don't teach us hand-to-hand combat?"

The Romulan grinned. He reached down and pulled a knife from his boot. "And you think I only carry one weapon?" He waved it at the Admiral, motioning him to come and step up onto the control center platform.

Michaev stepped back instead, seething through gritted teeth.

=/\=

Terrh stumbled slightly as the impact of weapons fire shook the mining ship. A string of curses left his mouth. He darted to the control console and tapped around in haste.

"Shields activated," a male voice confirmed.

Another volley hit the ship, though this time the rumbling and shaking was milder. But Terrh knew he couldn't just sit around with the _Lagga_; enough hits and the shields soon would be drained. He briefly glanced out the large, rotund window. Space outside was lit up by explosions and fire exchanges.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

A few levels below the control center, five people fully materialized in the dimness of the Romulan mining vessel.

"_Commodore_," a muted voice came over Anthony Greco's commbadge, "_someone just raised shields over there. We've only managed to beam you and your team in._"

"Damn," Greco grumbled, tapping his badge, "Alright, thanks. We'll manage. Keep an eye on the ship's shields. If you see them going down, maybe you can beam reinforcements over." He glanced at the four with him, "Until then, we're on our own."

"We'll be ok for now," Arhea assure Tony. "There were only four SFI agents, right?" She glanced from Greco to Timir and back.

"Right," Timir confirmed. "With the helmsman gone. But remember, Temba is somewhere loose on this ship, too." He warily looked around the area, "Just where... that's the question."

"Let's move," Greco instructed, "and stay sharp."

"This way." Arhea motioned them to follow her. "Control center is up there."

=/\=

It only took the small assault team a few minutes to ascend to the control center level. They split. Greco and the two officers went one way, and Timir and Arhea the other way, approaching the control platform from both sides.

Somewhere from up ahead, Michaev's voice echoed through the section of the ship. "Damn coward! So, now you'll just hide up there on your protected platform, hm?" he griped, furious at Terrh having done away with QT. "Come off your high horse and down here. Fight me like a man," he challenged.

"And let you shoot me down?" Terrh laughed scornfully. "What kind of fool do you take me for?" He gestured with his hand, "Come up here, and we'll fight like men."

"You going to throw your knife away?"

"And take a chance?" The Romulan looked at Michaev disbelieving.

"Would make us even," the Admiral grumbled.

Terrh laughed again. "Why would I want us to be even? This is not some competition to measure our prowess against one another and appease your pride." His expression went to ice, "I've got control of the ship. You don't. You can either pace around down there and complain or come up here and fight me hand-to-hand. It makes no difference to me." He snarled, "You're just too cowardly to take a chance. You want this ship, don't you? Well, come and get it."

"I'll get it alright," Michaev's anger flared, "you'll see! You'll see soon enough." A menacing look flashed up in his eyes. "As soon as my agents have the rift drive plugged in, we'll be taking this vessel on a little ride." A smirk curled up the corner of his lips. "Who do you think is in control now?"

Terrh's gaze shifted to the control console. A few taps. He realized somehow he had been blocked from control of Engineering. A slew of curses followed.

=/\=

"You're out of your mind!" Arhea stepped from the shadows that had concealed her.

"You!" Michaev whirled around, staring at her darkly.

Timir put his hand on her shoulder and tried to pull her back, but she shrugged him off.

"And you!" The Admiral's glare shifted to the Halanan.

"The rift drive has only been tested on very small crafts," Arhea continued, ignoring Michaev's stare, "It would rip a big ship like this one apart if you tried to pass through a generated rift. You _must _know that." She frowned. "Surely you can't be that crazy."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Timir muttered at her side.

"You should know how it works," Michaev grinned, "T'Ashal. Right? Wasn't that the preferred mode of transportation of your beloved Ra..."

"Captain T'Ashal died on Abraxas," Arhea corrected him with a defiant glare, cutting him off.

The Admiral laughed menacingly. It brought him delight to see that he had hit a sore spot on her. "Well, I suppose we'll all find out soon enough, since you'll be joining us for the ride. Just as soon as I get word it's ready," he smirked, "Nothing any of you can do about it."

=/\=

"Fracas," Anthony Greco stepped from his concealment on the opposite side of the control platform, "stop this all. Now!"

Boris Michaev snapped around. Surprise and intrigue twinkled in his eyes, "Now _there's_ a name I haven't been addressed with for a while." His grin widened. He motioned around with his phaser. "What're going to do, Hydra? Shoot me?"

The two Starfleet officers stepped to either of Greco's sides. The Commodore shook his head. "You know you're outnumbered. Just call this off and save us all a lot of trouble."

"Hydra?" Arhea looked slightly confused.

Michaev heard her and turned back to look at the former Starfleet Captain. "Ohh... I see he hasn't told you about his days in Intel, has he now?"

"I thought you were with Internal Affairs?" She glanced past Michaev and to Greco.

"I am... now."

Michaev cackled. "Surprise, surprise," he took a couple of steps back toward the edge of the control platform, "maybe my good friend Hydra needs to tell you about our adventures together when we both worked for SFI." He shot a glance at Greco. "Come on now, _Commodore_," his voice carried sarcasm with it, "you look at me with disdain, but you know you can't wash your hands in innocence either. No matter how high and mighty you think you are now."

"Shut up, Fracas," Greco snapped at the SFI officer. "And get down from there."

Michaev frowned. "Over my dead body..."


	18. Chapter 17: Blindsided

Chapter 17: "Blindsided"

=/\= - =/\=

"Ready for ship separation?" Commander T'Luz was sitting in the command chair on the _Paladin_, eyes on the viewscreen, waiting for confirmation from the officers that would command the other two ship sections.

"_Aye, ready_," Lt. Cmdr. Edmundson's voice came back, "_Though, I would much rather be on the assault team with the Commodore_."

"You have made your opinion known earlier, Commander," the Vulcan XO noted, "just follow the Commodore's orders."

"_We're ready as well_," First Lieutenant Armello acknowledged. "_Let's kick some butts!_"

"All in good time, Lieutenant," T'Luz replied. "Commencing with section separation, now." She glanced at her Engineer, "Drop the cloak and separate the ship."

"Cloaked dropped, sir," the officer confirmed, "multi-vector-assault-mode engaged."

=/\=

Just like its predecessor, the Prometheus class, the prototype Hephaestus class USS _Paladin_ was capable of splitting into three separate sections and conduct a multi-vector assault. It only took a few moments for the sections to break up and join the fray between the Galae vessels, the Tal'Shiar ships, and the Klingon fleet.

The _Paladin_'s main mission was to keep the Romulan mining vessel from being destroyed until Commodore Greco and his assault team would be able to extract, or eliminate, Admiral Michaev and his cohorts. In a strange way, this put them in a similar spot as the Tal'Shiar ships, who were trying to do the same, protect the mining ship, though out of completely different reasons. In essence, it meant that the _Paladin_ actually only had to worry about the Klingon fleet, which would inadvertently also help out Hvaid's forces, since he and his three other ships had to content with the Tal'Shiar vessels and the Klingons at the same time.

It was mayhem at its finest, and there wasn't really a true battle plan to follow; targets were picked according to who was the most threatening to the mining vessel at any given time. Though, now and then, one of the _Paladin_'s sections swooped in to assist one of the Romulan Galae's ships when they were squeezed from both sides by the Tal'Shiar and the Klingons. One of the big advantages the Federation ship had was that its sections were much more maneuverable than any of the other ships and therefore managed to escape many of the shots fired at them.

As the Klingons barreled down on the Romulan ships, Galae and Tal'Shiar alike, they ended up taking a beating when both Romulan groups fought together. Though, the moment they turned back on each other, the Klingons were able to cause some serious damage. That's when the quick assaults of the _Paladin_'s three section especially came as a welcome assistance.

One thing was for sure, this battle couldn't last too long or none of the ships present would make it out in one piece.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

On the _Lagga_, the standoff between Greco's assault team and Michaev was interrupted when the shadows behind Greco and his two officers suddenly seemed to grow and a huge beast with razor claws stepped from them.

"Commodore, watch out!" Arhea called out in horror as the creature quickly slew the two Starfleet officers.

Anthony Greco whirled around, phaser in hand. But before he had a chance to shoot, the beast slapped the weapon from his hand with a powerful swipe of a paw and impaled him with one of its claws. Greco clutched his stomach and collapsed.

"Commodore!" Arhea shreeked.

The beast stepped over the prone body and morphed back to Temba's humanoid form. He pulled his disruptor. "I'm sorry to ruin your plans, Admiral," he spoke to Michaev, who looked utterly confused, "but the Klingons have other plans for this ship... and the thalaron weapon."

"Over my dead body," Michaev repeated his earlier words, firing at the Chameloid.

"_That_ can be arranged," Temba called out coldly as he quickly found cover and returned fire at the SFI Admiral.

=/\=

"Cover me." Arhea didn't wait for Timir to acknowledge, but rushed across the platforms to Greco's side.

"Damn that woman," the Halanan muttered as he hunkered down for cover and laid fire upon Michaev and Temba. "Someone needs to put a leash on her." He sighed, drawing the two men's fire, while they both shot at each other as well.

Timir watched with apprehension as Arhea reached the Commodore's body and knelt down beside him. He began to slowly move from cover to cover, continuing to fire upon the two others, while he tried to get closer to Greco's position.

=/\=

In the heat of the exchange, Terrh ch'Vaeridh did what any shrewd Romulan would do that realized he was outgunned and had an opportunity to retreat until better circumstances would present themselves. He quietly snuck away.

His plan: to get off the ship. Shields were up; so there was no way to beam down to the planet. Besides, that crazy Admiral's collaborators had control over Engineering anyways. But there _was_ another option.

=/\=

"Tony," Arhea's voice quivered, "Tony. Are you alive?" She gently rolled the Commodore's body to the side, checking his pulse. It was faint.

The sounds from the fire exchange just a few meters away from them didn't even register with her. The rocking of the ship as the Klingons barraged its shields faded into unimportance. All that matter at the moment was Greco, her mentor, her father figure.

A shaking hand slid down Greco's torso. When she felt moisture, she pulled it back and stared at the blood covering her fingers.

A groan caused her eyes to flick down to the Commodore's face. Greco blinked back at her. "Arhea," he whispered.

She leaned closer. "Tony, don't move. You're badly wounded. I'll get you out of here." She tapped his commbadge. "Emergency beam-out," she called to the _Paladin_. "One... critically wounded, directly to sickbay."

"_The mining vessel's shield are draining, but still operative_," Commander T'Luz's voice came back, "_We are unable to beam anyone back at the moment._"

"You must," Arhea insisted. "It's the Commodore. He's badly injured."

"_I am sorry,_" was the response, "_we are under attack. Even if their shields drop, we cannot drop ours right now._"

"Well, make it happen somehow!"

"_We are working on it._"

"Hurry up," Arhea was exasperated, "he doesn't have much time."

=/\=

Timir peeked around his cover again, sending phaser fire in both Micheav's and Temba's direction, before he ducked back once more. He glanced to Arhea and Greco. The Commodore seemed to have moved, which meant he was still alive. Timir was close enough to them to hear her calling for an emergency beam-out. He figured that was probably not possible at the moment, but he was just as motivated as she was to get Greco to safety.

A shot hit the bulkhead, behind which he was hiding. He flinched. Weapons fire ceased for a second. He quickly took a look to his opponents. Another glance to Arhea. Then he darted across an opening for another cover, closer to her.

The beam from Michaev's phaser lanced out and hit the Halanan in the shoulder. Timir was flung around and tumbled to the floor. Michaev smelled blood and concentrated his efforts on taking the Halanan out, firing on him several more times. Timir managed to roll to the side, barely evading the next shot, and fired back at the Admiral. By the time Michaev's third shot hit the spot where Timir had been lying, the Halanan had scrambled behind cover again.

He cringed, feeling the pain in his shoulder. A quick check assured him it was merely a flesh wound, but it shure stung.

=/\=

Temba saw his opportunity to get himself into a better position. As Timir and Michaev were focused on one another for longer than just the split seconds they had been before, the Chameloid rushed back to Greco's location. And before Arhea knew it, he had snatched her as his hostage.

The Chameloid was strong; stronger than his humanoid form made him look. Arhea, however, not only had her Romulan strength, but also her Romulan tenacity. She wasn't about to let him use her as a shield. The moment he grabbed her, she began fighting to get out of his grip.

Timir ceased firing in his direction, just as Temba had figured, but Admiral Michaev didn't have any care for Arhea and apparently saw his chance to rid himself of her and the Chameloid. Shots from his phasers hit Arhea in the leg and Temba in the arm. But the shapeshifter quickly returned fire, driving the Admiral back behind cover, as Temba himself tried to pull Arhea with him from the open area.

This time, it was Timir who took the opportunity that presented itself when Michaev laid more focused fire on Temba. Just as Arhea was hit and cried out in pain, Timir made a run for the Chameloid. Arhea pulled herself loose from Temba's grip. The shapeshifter tried to grasped her again, but by then Timir's body collided with his. The front-on tackle knocked the Chameloid's disruptor from his hand and his body back a good two meters.

Arhea was in mid-turn, following Timir's trajectory, when he slammed into Temba. For a second, the two men teetered at the edge of the platform. And then, suddenly, they toppled over the edge.

"Timir!" She let out a scream.

=/\=

"_Admiral,_" Kazra's voice sounded in Michaev's head, "_the rift drive is installed and ready._"

"Good! Activate it. Now!"

Michaev's words, spoken out loud, snapped Arhea from her momentary paralysis. She whirled around and stared at the SFI Admiral. "Activate what?"

He shot her a sinister grin. It was all the answer she needed.

Swiftly picking up the disruptor, she fired in his direction. "You damn fool!"

As Michaev dove for cover, Arhea pulled Greco behind one of the bulkheads. She dropped to one knee. "Commodore, I have to go. I need to help Timir, if he's still alive. They'll beam you out as soon as they can. I'm sure of it." She pressed her phaser into his hand. "Here. I know you're weak, but you must try and stay awake. Shoot at anything that moves."

Greco nodded with a weak smile. "Go... go help him..."

The Commodore grit his teeth as he rolled to his side and held out the phaser in the direction of where he thought Michaev was hiding. As he began putting the Admiral under fire, Arhea darted from her cover and fired the disruptor in the same direction.

Despite Michaev taking aim at her a few times, she made it to the turbolift on the far end of the level and jumped inside. She only hoped she hadn't condemned Greco to death, leaving him alone with this menace.


	19. Chapter 18: All or Nothing

Chapter 18: "All or Nothing"

=/\= - =/\=

The moment Arhea had disappeared into the lift, Boris Michaev ascended the two platforms to the central control. He whirled around at the steps and laughed down at Commodore Greco's feeble aim.

"Sorry, Commodore," he grinned, "but I have more important things to worry about than exchanging futile fire fights with you." He was sure Greco would be dead very soon.

He waved his phaser in the air dramatically and then holstered it. His grin grew when Greco shot at him again, but this time the absorption mechanisms that Terrh had built into the control platform's perimeter deflected the energy blast.

Michaev's scornful laughter rang through the ship. "You just keep on doing that... _Hydra_," he called down with sarcasm, "seems like you lost some of your perfect aim in your old age." Another cackle and he rushed to the control console.

A few taps of his fingers and his eyes scanned over the information from the _Lagga_'s sensors. It didn't look very promising. Its shields were buckling under the assault of the Klingons, despite their fleet's situation being rather precarious, too.

He unleashed a barrage of torpedoes from the mining vessel on the battling ships outside. Perhaps he could give those who tried to keep the _Lagga_ in one piece a helping hand. Watching, Michaev was satisfied that his volley had done some damage, even disabled one of the Klingon ships. But the power to the shields was still draining and getting dangerously low. He had to get the _Lagga_ out of here.

His eyes jumped to the sensor readings about the temporal rift formation. It was well on the way. Massive power fluctuations appeared on the screen from beyond the planet and just at the inside edge of the asteroid field. The corners of his mouth lifted in a sinister smirk. The Founders wouldn't know what would hit them.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

A couple of levels below, Arhea stepped from the lift and scanned her surroundings carefully. It was much dimmer here than up above where the control center was located. Green lights only illuminated this area sparesely. From somewhere below, smoke rose and impeded visual observation even further.

But her keen hearing picked up the sound of a scuffle up ahead. She slowly moved closer to the fight, Temba's disrupter at ready. This was a less than ideal situation. With her visual impairment she had to be very cautious about shooting at anyone, lest she wanted to hit and kill the wrong person.

As she drew closer, she could hear a grunt and caught the sight of someone being flung to the right, then landing with a thud on the platform.

"Hold it," she demanded, gripping the disruptor tighter and aiming it into the dim fogginess, "or I'll shoot!"

A second figure popped out of the smoke to her left. "Arhea! It's me. Timir."

"Timir," she breathed a sight of relieve and moved toward him, "thank the elements."

"No!" The other figured jumped to his feet. "Don't listen to him. I'm Timir."

Arhea froze. In the green lighting, she could make out at least the top half of both figures. Her heart rate jumped up. They both looked like Timir. But... who was the real one?

=/\=

"You're lying!" The person on the right rushed the one on the left and they began grappling with each other again. "I'm Timir! Arhea, don't listen to him."

"He's trying to deceive you!" the other one warned, grunting under the strain of the struggle.

"Don't believe him," the first one admonished.

For what seemed endless seconds, Arhea watched the men wrestle, each one urging her not to listen to the other. Then, suddenly, she turned her weapon on one of them and fired.

The energy beam lanced out. The man yelled out in pain, teetered back, and then fell off the edge of the platform to one just below.

She rushed to the side of the platform and stared down. As the unharmed man stepped to her side, she could barely make out the body below in the green tinted smoke. It was sprawled on the hard surface. Within seconds, it morphed and changed into Temba. She exhaled.

"Well," Timir noted, staring down, "I suppose that's that."

Arhea looked up at him, "You're welcome."

Timir chuckled lightly in embarrassment. "Sorry. Thank you. I'm glad that's him down there, and not me." He gave her a light smile, followed by a quizzical look. "How did you know which one of us to shoot?"

"It became pretty clear," she remarked with a shrug, "He didn't get the accent right." She turned and started walking back to the lift.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Commander," the Tactical Officer reported on the _Paladin_'s main section's bridge, "most of the Klingon ships are crippled or destroyed."

"Keep focusing on the Tal'Shiar ships," T'Luz commanded.

"Sir," the Science Officer called out, "there's a spacial rift forming on the edge of the asteroid belt. It's... huge!"

"Spacial rift?" The Vulcan Commander looked at the young man with utter surprise.

"Yes, sir. I believe it's being generated by the Romulan mining ship." He glanced up at her. "We need to get out of here, sir. We won't be able to withstand the gravitational pull."

A brief moment of contemplating, then T'Luz ordered, "Helm, take us closer to the mining vessel. Tactical, see what you can do to drop their shields."

"Their shields are almost depleted," the Tactical Officer replied. "A few more phaser shots should do it."

"Then, get it done." T'Luz's eyes settled on the viewscreen as the mining ship drew closer. "Inform Commander Edmundson and Lieutenant Armello to give us cover from the Tal'Shiar ships."

=/\=

Within seconds, the _Paladin_'s main section had whipped around the still ongoing skirmish between a couple of Klingon ships, Hvaid's small bunch, and the Tal'Shiar vessels. A few well placed phaser hits, and the rest of the mining vessel's shield power went down.

"Their shields are down," the Tactical Officer reported.

"Locate the assault team and beam them out," T'Luz instructed.

As she watched the scene on the screen, awaiting confirmation that they had retrieved the five-person assault team, a small craft burst from the aft of the mining ship and headed around the far side of the planet. It appeared to be the Romulan shuttle that Timir and Temba had taken to Talvath II earlier in the day.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

"Wait, wait wait." Timir slipped past Arhea and barred her way to the lift door. "You shot him because he 'didn't get the accent right'?"

"Correct."

"Well that... I... " he stammered, "what if you had been wrong?"

"I wasn't," she replied evenly.

"But..."

"What?" She cocked her head. "I'm Romulan. You don't think I can tell your accent from anyone else's?" A smile crept up on her face. "It's pretty unique."

"I..." He sighed. How could he argue with that? If anyone would be able to tell the differences between regional dialects, it would be a native Romulan. And Arhea did know him pretty well by now.

Before he could say anything more, the mining vessel rocked so badly that it almost knocked him off his feet. He stumbled backward and hit the lift door button. The doors opened. They both staggered into the lift, barely able to keep themselves on their feet. More tremmors followed as they hung onto one another.

"We need to get back up to Tony," Arhea reminded between shocks. She reached for the control panel and prompted the lift to go upwards.

A jolt. It began moving, but then suddenly stopped. The sparse lights flickered. Then darkness enveloped them. Again, she pushed the panel. Nothing.

"Damn," she breathed. "I think ship power just took a nosedive."

Once more the ship rocked. She stumbled. Timir caught her in his arms. His closeness felt good. It calmed her rattled nerves despite all that was going on around them.

"The ship is falling apart," she muttered in a low tone. "I don't know if we'll make it out of here alive."

He softly rubbed his cheek against hers. A whisper into her ear, "Then I'm happy _you're_ with me. If I have to die, I'm glad I'm dying in the company of the woman I love."

She turned her head toward his. Despite the darkness, she felt she could see him as clear as daylight. Her lips brushed his. "I'm glad you're here, too."

The rocking and jolting faded into the background as he pulled her into a passionate kiss.

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

A burst of energy lit up space in the inner circle of the Talvath system as the spacial rift opened. It was followed by an enormous gravitational pull. A pull so strong it was irresistible.

Explosions of ships being sucked into the massive fissure and breaking apart flashed in short intervals outside, while inside the _Lagga_ explosions ripped through the ship as power junctions and conduits overloaded. The rumbling and shaking became more and more intense, until is suddenly stopped and everything seemed to stretch into one direction, as if the ship was made out of rubber and was being pulled to maximum tautness. But it was only an illusion.

The disorienting sensation only lasted for a fraction of a second, then the huge ship lurched forward and was sucked into the temporal rift.

=/\=

By then, the ships that were still intact made a run for it. Though it wasn't easy. The gravitational pull of the rift was overwhelming. But it was each one for themselves. Even the three sections of the _Paladin_ didn't communicate with one another.

As they struggled to escape, consoles blew out everywhere from the strain on the power sources. But on they pushed. There was no looking back. It was run or die.

Somewhere behind the fleeing ships, the _Lagga_ entered the rift, consumed by its pull just like part of the asteroid belt and any vessel unable to move away.

=/\=

At the rift's threshold, the Romulan mining vessel burst apart.

The huge explosion was followed by a massive shockwave that ripped through the Talvath system with devastating consequences...


	20. Chapter 19: Tough As Nails

Chapter 19: "Tough As Nails"

=/\= - =/\=

Inundated by emotions, the kiss seemed to last forever. All other concerns had vanished in the presence of Timir's affection. Arhea had made peace with the fact that this would probably be the last sensation she'd ever feel.

But the universe had other plans for her... for them.

=/\=

"Wait a minute! When did you two...?"

The familiar voice caused Arhea and Timir to break the kiss. They turned to its source, a pale-faced and confused looking Anthony Greco gazing at them from a bio bed in the _Paladin_'s sickbay. They had made it!

Greco shook his head. "I'm really getting too old for this if I haven't seen that one coming." A prolonged sigh, and he sunk back onto the bed at Doctor Karpenko's urging.

"You're getting too old for playing space cowboy, too, Commodore," Lev reprimanded. "Now lay still so I can stitch you back together."

"Tony!" Arhea let go of Timir and rushed to Greco's side, happy that he was alive. Though, her initial smile was replaced by a concerned look. "Will he be alright?" She glanced to Lev.

"Hey! Of course, I'll be fine," Greco protested. A cough. He voice was less vigorous, "Don't act like I've got one leg in the grave already."

Karpenko let out an exasperated sigh. "If he'd lay still for one moment, relax, and let me do my vork, he'd be fine a lot sooner." He glanced to Arhea with a stern look. "He's lost a lot of blood, but vhatever impaled his chest missed the heart... by millimeters." He motioned for her to move. "It definitely vould help if everyone vould give me some room."

"Oh..." She looked apologetic and took a step back. "I'm sorry, Doc."

"If you don't need immediate medical attention, it vould be a good idea to leave and let the medical personnel vork," Lev suggested without outrightly saying 'get out'.

"The Doc has a point, Arhea," Timir put a hand to her shoulder and peered over it at Greco. "The Commodore's tough as nails, he'll be alright under the Doc's care." He gently grasped her arm. "Come on, let's give them some room."

"Tough as nails," Greco's lips spread into a wide smile as Lev released a hypo into his neck, "I like that..." He visibly relaxed and closed his eyes, muttering, "I'll be fine... honest... I'll be just... fine..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

Arhea let out a long exhale. "Doc says he was able to repair the damage, and Tony is resting now," she reported aloud before shutting down the computer.

Timir stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Gently, he began massaging her tense muscles. "I hope that means you'll be able to relax now." He leaned down and softly kissed the nape of her neck. "I had hoped the shower would have done that for you earlier, but you're so tightly strung, I thought you'd snap."

"I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, letting the feeling of his warm hands kneading her muscles wash over her. Once more she exhaled deeply. "You know how much he means to me."

"He means a lot to me, too," Timir reminded her.

"I know." She turned the chair to face him.

His hands slipped off her shoulders as she swiveled around. He lowered himself to one knee and peered up into her deep green eyes. "Look," he took one of her hands into his, "I don't want anything to happen to him either, but the fact of the matter is, in his line of work that's not a reasonable expectation. He's good at what he does. He's smart, alert, and tough, but even he is not invincible. Things can and _will _happen." He brought her hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on it. "Worrying overly much about it doesn't help him... or you."

Arhea's gaze met his amber eyes. His words brought sudden clarity to her mind. Greco was a father figure to her, one she had clung to during all those years she had been away from her real family. But even so, she had never worried this much about her own father while she had been an officer in the Galae, and especially not after becoming a Tal'Shiar agent. Family had to step into the background. It had been a tough choice, but she had made it with the belief that it was necessary for her to be able to carry out her duties without undue distractions. It was the Rihannsu way.

Had her time in the Federation made her weak?

"You're right." She stood abruptly. "I don't know when I became this soft," she remarked, clenching her jaw, "my worries are only paralyzing me, keeping me from moving on like I should. I'm defaming my Rihannsu heritage."

Timir had risen with her. He blinked. "Uhm... that's not exactly what I meant."

"But it's true. I've spent too much time absorbed in Human customs, being around them, assimilating their ways..."

"Arhea," he put his hand on her shoulder, his eyes compassionate and kind, "it afforded you to learn to express more easily that you care. I don't think that's a bad thing."

"Rihannsu care," she countered. "We just... have a different way of showing it."

"I know." He sighed. "But I like it that you've learned to embrace both cultures and that you were able to mix your natural Rihannsu passion with the compassionate ways taught in the Federation."

"Wait," she narrowed her eyes at him, scrutinizing his facial expression, "I thought you hated the Federation?"

Timir exhaled with force. He turned and walked to the small window. His gaze hung out in space for the longest moment. "I hate their policies. The fact that they think they must bring their way of life to everyone, and it's the only right way of life." He glanced back at her. "I don't believe that. But... I have come to respect and care about a few people in the Federation that don't show that sort of delusional thinking. They are noble people in my eyes," he shrugged, "if that makes any sense."

"So, you don't necessarily dislike the values the Federation and its people hold, but the fact that the Federation as a political entity tries to push their policies on everyone, thinking they're bringing salvation and order to places when they're actually causing disruptions," she summarized. "Am I getting that right?"

He nodded. "Pretty much." Leaning back against the bulkhead, he crossed his arms. "Federation leaders seem to think that their way is always the right way... I don't agree with that."

Arhea crossed the room and stopped just short of him. She cocked her head, eying him for a long moment. "I suppose you hold that opinion because of something in the past?"

Again he nodded. "I do."

"Will you ever tell me about it?" She reached for his arm.

A light smile spread on his face at her touch. "Maybe," he uncrossed his arms and pulled her close, "another time."

She returned the smile, peering up at him. "I suppose you're right. It's not a bad thing that I express my care more openly than other Rihannsu. I guess... I've always been a compassionate person. Living among Humans has just taught me to let that come to the fore more readily." Her hand ran up his arm and stopped at the wound on his shoulder. A frown. "Shouldn't you let Lev take a look at this?"

He chuckled. "Are we changing subjects now?"

She flashed him an impish grin. "I'm simply showing my care."

Timir outright laughed. "I see. Well," he glanced to his shoulder, "I think it'll heal by itself just fine. It's just a flesh wound. And I actually thought that a scar would help to remind me of some of the lessons I've learned during this... mission."

"Mmhmm." She eyed him with mock displeasure. "I think you just want to look tough."

"I _am_ tough." He gave her a deadpan look.

"Sure you are." She ran her hand to the back of his neck, gently combing her fingers through his curly hair. A seductive smile played over her features.

Her touch caused a shiver to run down his spine. Oh, she was good. A sparkle lit up his amber eyes as he leaned down, "Well... I'm tough most of the times..."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

Riov Hvaid tr'Khaiell dematerialized in the _Paladin_'s transporter room some six hours after their hurried escape from the Talvath system. He had gotten word that Commodore Greco was out of danger and recuperating in sickbay from his grave injuries, and requested an audience with the Federation officer and his senior staff.

Much to Doctor Karpenko's dismay Greco had insisted to have Hvaid beam over and hold the discussion in the private sickbay room that he called his temporary home right now. Greco simply didn't want to be left out of the loop, despite trusting and believing in the competence of his XO, Commander T'Luz. Some things he just wanted to handle himself.

=/\=

"Stop the fuss," Greco grumbled at Karpenko when Hvaid and Lt. Cmdr. Edmundson entered the room. "I'm staying in my bed. You can monitor me. Everything will be fine."

"You know exactly that I can overvrite your orders," Lev countered in irritation.

"And you know exactly that I'd kick you off my crew if you'd ever tried," Greco reminded his CMO.

"You," Lev held up a finger, "are an impossible man."

"You should be used to that by now." Greco turned his attention to the arrivals. "Have a seat, gentlemen. There's a few others coming."

As if on cue, the door opened once more and Commander T'Luz and First Lt. Armello stepped in, followed by Lieutenant Carax. And a minute later, Arhea and Timir joined the group.

They all found seats and looked expectantly at Greco.

=/\=

Tony glanced around the room, looking at each person present in turn. He folded his hands on his chest, "Alright. How about if we start with a general report. I've been out of the loop for six hours now. What's the status of our ship?" He looked at T'Luz and the group of his senior officers.

"The _Paladin_ is in one piece again," the XO began. "Rejoining procedures went well. None of the damage we sustained while separated kept us from reconnecting the sections. But the damage is extensive. We are in full repair mode right now."

"We need at least twenty-four hours to repair enough of the damage to allow us to even think about heading back to Federation space," Armello, the Chief Engineer, piped in. "And even then, I can't guarantee any speed over warp six."

"If you have forty-eight hours, will you be able to increase speed?" Greco asked.

"We might be able to make warp eight then," Armello noted, "but even then I can't guarantee you if we'll be able to keep that up all the way home."

"Well, do your best, Chief." Tony pondered a moment. "What about the cloak?"

"It's not online," Armello answered with obvious dismay. "And I'm not sure if we'll be able to get it back either."

"That won't be an issue on your way back," Hvaid interrupted. "Our ships will be instructed to let you pass through our space undisturbed. I will guarantee that."

The Commodore acknowledged the gesture of the Romulan with a light nod. "Thank you." He looked at T'Luz, "Let the crew know we'll be heading for home in forty-eight hours, cloak or not."

"Yes, sir," the Vulcan acknowledged.

Greco's head turned back to look at Hvaid again. "How many of your ships made it out?"

"Three out of the four," the Romulan Captain reported. "And one of the Tal'Shiar ships escaped as well, but they limped away. I chose not to follow. We know what ship it was and who the Commander is. I've already reported it to Galae Command. They will handle that matter."

Tony nodded. "Damage to your ships?"

"I suppose we're about in the same shape as your ship is. Repairs are commencing," Hvaid replied. "Though, one of my ships took some severe damage. I'm not sure if it's salvageable. We might have to transfer its crew over to mine and simply destroy it."

"You could always leave it behind and get it towed back home later," Edmundson suggested.

Hvaid smirked. "Commander, you're not very familiar with Rihannsu policies about leaving ships floating around in space, are you?"

"Are you really worried about anyone stealing secrets from you out here in your own territory?" Kyle Edmundson, the Tactical/Security Chief, shook his head.

"Even out here in _our_ territory there are people that wouldn't like nothing better than to get their hands on Galae technology and information that they could sell for a hefty profit," Hvaid answered with a chuckle. "But I don't expect _you_ to understand that. It's simply that we don't wish to leave ourselves vulnerable in any way."

"Mmhmm." Kyle rolled his eyes. "Galae policies."

"Well, you do as you please," Greco noted. His brow furrowed lightly. "What did Galae Command say about when you reported on the explosion and the Tal'Shiar base?"

"Oh, they weren't too happy. I've been summoned by Admiral Taris to return to Galae headquarters at Achernar as soon as possible. She's demanded to see me about this matter," Hvaid explained. "Considering the damage that was done, I can understand her irritation. Sensor reading taken during the battle and our departure aren't completely clear, and we've had some trouble getting our long-range scanners back to optimal output, but from what we've been able to piece together the situation doesn't look very promising for the system. The explosion of the rift and the subsequent shockwave has caused some enormous damage." He grimaced. "The shockwave devastated Talvath II and destroyed the colony. I don't believe anyone got away with their lives on the planet. Part of the asteroid belt is gone. And even the system's sun has been destabilized. I'm not sure what that all will mean for this region."

"Damn..." Greco sighed.

"That's about what our sensor's observed," Lieutenant Carax, the Chief Science Officer, confirmed. "The effects on the system's sun could very well lead into a supernova in time." She wagged her head. "It's hard to predict right now."

Greco rubbed his goatee in thought. "Hmm..." He glanced at Hvaid. "If you need any help with that... scientific help, I mean... later on down the line, please let the Federation know. We'll be happy to assist."

Hvaid nodded. "I'll pass on your offer to Galae Command. I made the suggestion myself to send a science vessel for further investigation, once the effects settle a bit. I'm hoping their diagnosis will not look as gloomy as ours does right now. We definitely don't need another Hobus." He stood and stepped up to the side of Greco's bio bed. "In the meantime, I must urge my crew on to finish repairs. Taris doesn't like to be kept waiting for long. And I have the feeling there will be some major repercussions for the Tal'Shiar. They might have acted as if they're above military laws for the last time." His gaze briefly shifted from the Commodore to Arhea and then back. "We shall see."

Tony nodded somberly. "Take care, my friend. Don't forget to say goodbye before you're leaving."

"We'll be around for a bit longer," Hvaid assured, "and we'll stick with you here until repairs are accomplished, just in case someone thinks they should take advantage of our vulnerable state right now. It's better to be in a group than a single vessel."

"You mean, the Klingons?"

"I doubt that," the Romulan shook his head, "from what we've seen _if_ any of their ships survived, it was only a couple of them, and they were in much worse shape than us. I wouldn't worry about them." He smirked.

"Who says I'm worried?" Greco grinned.

"Gentlemen," Lev Karpenko interrupted the friendly banter, "if there's nothing else _pressing_ to discuss, I'd like you all to leave. The Commodore really needs some more rest."

Tony shot the CMO a look, but Karpenko pretended to not have seen it.

"Of course." T'Luz stood. "We will handle everything, Commodore. You need not worry yourself. And I will keep you updated on our progress."

"Very well." Greco sunk back into the pillow with a sigh, watching the group file out one at a time.

* * *

_Riov = Commander (SF equivalent rank - Captain)_


	21. Chapter 20: Wishful Thinking

Chapter 20: "Wishful Thinking"

=/\= - =/\=

"I wish we had more time..." Arhea let out a sigh.

"Ie. It was all too short," Hvaid agreed. For a moment, he studied his little sister's face. "I haven't seen you in fifteen years, and now we already have to part again."

"Always on the move," she smiled up at him, touching his arm gently, "it's how the military is. We both knew it would be hard to keep up with family when we joined."

"Even harder after you disappeared into the ranks of the Tal'Shiar." He couldn't keep his displeasure from showing on his face.

Arhea grimaced.

"And to learn that you have been living within the Federation for all that time..." Hvaid's frown increased. "Infiltrating Starfleet. A dangerous game to play. You could have easily been discovered and killed."

"The Federation doesn't necessarily make it its policy to kill its enemies," she countered mildly.

"Starfleet's Intelligence Division does," he insisted adamantly.

Once more, she let out a prolonged sigh. "Look, Hvaid, I did what I felt was the right thing to do back then. The right thing for the Rihannsu empire..."

"But?"

"But... now I see things slightly different."

"There are many that would consider you a traitor, Arhea," Hvaid's voice was ominous.

"You haven't told anybody that you've seen me, have you?"

"No. Not yet." He hung his head and turned away from her, staring out the viewport for a long moment. "Not even Admiral Taris... but I should. It's my duty."

Her jaw tightened. "Far be it from me to keep you from doing what you must., but..." her voice quivered slightly, "all official reports show that I died at Abraxas." She swallowed the tears back that wanted to come up, thinking of those crew members on the _Excelsior _again she hated to deceive like this.

"Abraxas?" He turned back to face her. A quizzical look in his eyes. "What do you mean, you died there?"

"Miro... I mean, D'Nal," she began to explain, "had an information chip implanted into my brain. He had told me it was there to mask my Rihannus identity, but in truth it was also storing every bit of data I've came across in the fifteen years of my undercover work in Starfleet. He wanted it back. I wasn't about it give it to him. D'Nal was ready to take it by force, even if it meant killing me in the process." Her brow furrowed. "Commodore Greco realized the danger and... well, he replaced me with a clone of myself, one that he had brought to live on the _Paladin_."

"A clone?" Hvaid looked even more puzzled.

Arhea nodded. "Greco felt I was too important to the mission to apprehend Admiral Michaev to risk my life unwarranted. So, he put my clone on the _Excelsior _just before we headed to Abraxas. And he was right..." She frowned. "D'Nal recalled 'me' with a secret access signal to that chip and my clone went down to the planet with a shuttle... unauthorized." Her green eyes flashed with pain. "He killed her... coldly and brutally taking that chip." A forceful sigh. "It could have been me."

Hvaid put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Arhea."

"It's ok." She gave her brother a halfhearted smile, then shrugged. "Officially, I'm dead. Which... at the moment means that neither the Tal'Shiar nor SFI is looking for me. I would like to keep it that way." Her eyes met his with a plea. "I'm sure Commodore Greco and Timir would be most grateful for that as well."

He clenched his jaw, averting his eyes from hers for a moment. She was asking a lot of him.

Her voice was but a whispered when she continued. "I'm asking you... not as an officer of the Galae, or of the Tal'Shiar, but... as you sister... please, Hvaid, keep my being alive to yourself."

"I'm not sure that's possible. Some of my bridge crew saw you," he began pacing, "And you know, if it would be discovered that I've aided you, my life would be at risk, too, as well as the lives of all our family."

"I know." She watched him, wringing her hands. "I trust you'd find a way."

Hvaid stopped his pacing and regarded her with concern. "I would gladly bear that burden and even risk handling the situation with the bridge crew for you, Arhea, but what about our family? Father. Mother. Jaron. Rai... the children. The Tal'Shiar would have no qualms..."

"The Tal'Shiar don't know where they are," Ahrea countered.

"Neither do I, come to think of it," he noted.

"Maybe it's better that way."

He looked pained.

"Hvaid, please don't give me that look," she grimaced, "I've told you they're alright. I promise you. I will let nothing happen to them." She held his gaze for what seemed an eternity.

"Alright." He exhaled. "I will keep your secret."

A smile lit up her face. "I knew I could count on you." She moved to his side and grabbed his hand. "I promise you, I'm done with the Tal'Shiar for good."

"What about the secret division your beloved Commodore Greco belongs to?" Hvaid gave her a slightly reprimanding look.

"Well," she glanced at him sideways, "if you mean, will I continue working for Greco in this capacity? I'd have to say... no. I'm not planning on it."

"Mmhmm." Again, he gave her that same look, but this time he couldn't hold it for long in all seriousness before a smirk spread on his lips. "What about that Timir guy? You're planing on settling down with him and have a family?"

"Hvaid," she blushed slightly, "have you completely forgotten who I am in the past fifteen years?" She gave him deadpan look.

"How could I?" He sighed in mock exasperation. "I was just _hoping_ you had changed."

"Ha!" A broad grin spread on her lips. "Wishful thinking."

"Can you blame me?"

She eyed him for a minute, then chuckled.

Her amusement infected him for but a moment, then his face became serious again. He pulled her into an embrace. "I'm going to miss you... again." Releasing her a bit, he looked back into those big green eyes. They were just as sparkly and mischievous looking as when she was a little girl, and yet there was a lot more poise and determination in them these days as well.

"I'll miss you, too, Hvaid. I will be careful," she smiled, "and I will see you again. I promise."

"You better."

* * *

=/\= - =/\=

* * *

The Spectre Class warbird _Greiirh_ had long jumped to warp with its companion ships, but Arhea's gaze still hung on the spot in space where it had disappeared from her sight until the _Paladin_ itself departed and moved to warp speed.

Timir stepped into the darkened room and walked up to the window. His arms reached around her from behind. He pulled her to his chest and held her tight, his cheek pressing against hers. His eyes followed hers out into the dark void as he spoke, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but... we're on our way to Federation space."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "You seem especially apprehensive about that."

"I have reason to be." He released her and stepped back, exhaling with force.

Arhea turned to face him. "You don't think Starfleet Command will hold up their end of the bargain? I mean, I don't see why you should worry, you're bringing them the information they've asked you to gather. Didn't they say you'd be exonerated?"

"Well... yes. I'm suppose to be a free man then."

She waited a moment after he fell silent before she spoke again, "Look, if Tony has any say-so in this, you know he'll demand them to keep up their..."

"I know. I know." Timir stepped to the couch and flopped onto the cushions. "I'm just..." he glanced past Ahrea and to the window.

She moved to his side and sat. Her hand went to lay on his thigh. "Timir," she waited until he looked back to her before continuing, "tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just... the only time I've been on Earth was during my imprisonment and subsequent operative training," he confessed, "the place doesn't exactly hold fond memories for me." He shook his head. "Maybe I'm just being silly."

"You were pretty young back then. Only what... fifteen?"

He nodded, placing his hand on top of hers. A light smile. "I suppose I should look on the positive side. Like you said... I'm giving them what they sent me for, and if they have only a portion of the honor that you believe the Federation and Starfleet has, they should hold up to their end, right?"

"I see no reason why they wouldn't. Although..." A giggle escaped her mouth.

"Although?" Timir's brow raised with concern, despite the giggle, or maybe because of it.

"I do feel sorry for you to have to come face to face with Sauerpuss again." Arhea bit her lip, trying to keep back an outright laugh.

"Sauerp... oh, Admiral Sauer." He let his head fall back against the couch with an grunt. "Don't remind me." His head fell to the side, looking at Arhea. "You're terrible, you know that?" he scolded. "This is not fair."

"What's not fair?" A completely innocent expression on her face.

"That you can hide on the ship, while I have to face that woman." He shook his finger at her.

"Hey now," she countered, waggling her own finger in his direction, "I had to deal with her several more times after we had that little conversation in your presence that day. I had all I can take of her charming disposition. It's your turn."

"I still don't think it's fair."

Arhea shrugged. "You'll have Tony with you. You can suffer together." She tried to bite back another chuckle.

"You're enjoying this far too much." Timir frowned, rolling his head back to look back up to the ceiling. "How long will it take us to get to Earth?"

"About three weeks."

"Well, at least that leaves me some time to prepare."

"You could always re-create her on the holodeck and then expose yourself to her every day," Arhea suggested, "I believe they call that desensitizing."

A moment of silence. Then he suddenly burst out laughing. He sat up straight. "Leave it up to you to come up with a weird way of handling the situation."

"Are you saying my ideas don't have merit?" She pouted.

He chuckled. "Don't give me that look. It makes me want to scoop you up in my arms and kiss you."

"Well..."

Timir pulled her close. "Trouble maker." He leaned in, but didn't quite kiss her. "You know, speaking of the holodeck..."

"Were we?"

"Mmhmm." He smiled, touching her nose briefly with his. "I wanted to take you to have sushi in that Japanese restaurant program. I'm still perfecting my grasp on the use of chopsticks. I need practice."

This time she chuckled. "Sounds good." She slipped from his grip and stood. "Under one condition." An impish smile formed on her lips. "We combine that program with the one for the outdoors bath facilities... for afterward."

"Ohh..." He stood, his amber eyes sparkling. "I like how you think."

Her grin widened. "No holographic occupants," she started toward the door, "just me... and you."

He darted after her. "I like _that_ even better."

* * *

_Ie = Yes_


End file.
